Rediscovering Honor
by LPphreek
Summary: Trunks' journey from the future altered the events of the present, leading to Vegeta becoming super saiyan much earlier. An AU where one change leads to a new reality where Vegeta discovers what it means to be a saiyan of honor.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Dragonball Z.

Chapter 1

_Ah me, me, me, me is all you say that I care about  
Me, me, me, me is all I ever want to talk about  
Me, me, me, me is what you think that I care about  
Me, me, me, me is all I really want to talk about_

An explosion was heard across the Capsule Corporation compound in West City. This being a commonplace sound at this location, no one within hearing range so much as blinked or turned their heads. Except one blue-haired scientist.

She was in her laboratory, so she knew the blast did not originate there. Her eyes widened in fear and she jumped out of her chair, running out of her lab as fast as her legs could carry her. 'If that monkey blew up the gravity chamber _again_ and nearly killed himself, I'll finish the job this time!' she thought to herself as she opened the back door of the compound and ran out to see what damage a certain saiyan prince had caused.

She sighed in relief when she saw that the spaceship Vegeta was using for his training was still intact. However, there was smoke seeping out of the broken windows. Forgetting what she had said as she left the building, she hastened her steps and punched in the emergency override code and opened the door to make sure the saiyan was not injured (too badly).

"Woman! I have told you not to interrupt my training!" an angry voice was heard from the dark depths of the chamber.

"My _name, your highness_, is Bulma. B-U-L-M-A. And besides, what training can you do when you just _broke_ the gravity console _again_?" she shouted back. Bulma was beginning to wonder why she had ever invited this arrogant man to come and stay at Capsule Corp. Sure, he was one of their best chances of victory over the androids, but that was irrelevant. He was driving her crazy.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. As if he cared what the blue-haired woman wanted to be called. She always answered to "woman" anyway. Yet, she was right. The gravity machine was broken after that last explosion and he would need her to fix it so he could resume training. He growled, making a shiver run down Bulma's spine. She hated when he did that, it made him sound like a feral animal. She couldn't help but think that's what he really was.

"Get out of here so I can fix it," she ordered him, trying to hide the slight tremor in her voice. Honestly, she was afraid of him. He was so dangerous and unpredictable.

The prince emerged from the chamber shortly after that, tail twitching angrily behind him as he fixed an icy glare on the intruding woman. He smirked when she turned her eyes away from him and tentatively stepped in. He decided that he would take a break while she was fixing the blasted machine. After all, he _was_ a saiyan, so of course he was hungry. Vegeta walked into the compound to find the blonde woman so he could order her to make him lunch.

Bulma watched him go and shook her head, partially from relief, but also aggravation. She flipped on the back-up power and the lights came on. Finally able to see where she was going, she walked to the center of the room and kneeled on the floor to open the compartment where she had taken to storing her tools. She was in there often enough it had become a pain to have to drag them out with her every time Vegeta broke something. Sighing, she got to work.

Vegeta walked through a myriad halls, calling for the ditzy woman who cooked for him. Finally, as he was passing large double doors that he had never been in before, he heard a muffled, yet bubbly, voice answer, "In here, sweetie!" He growled slightly, hating the nickname given to him by that crazy woman, then opened the doors and walked in.

The blonde was holding a watering can as she made her rounds in the indoor garden. The sun was shining brightly through the sunroof and he could hear - and smell – many animals roaming around. 'What is this place?' he wondered as he crossed his arms and approached the singing woman. Her off-key yodels made his ears almost bleed, but he cringed and ignored the pain.

"Woman, I require nourishment," he spat through clenched teeth. If the food she provided wasn't so damn good, he probably would have blasted her on the spot. The blue-haired woman was annoying, but this one took the word to a whole new level.

"Oh, of course, honey! You've been training so hard all morning, I'll go make you a big lunch right now," she babbled as she dropped the watering can and ran for the doors. One thing that he did like about her was how she literally would drop everything and run to obey him.

Vegeta smirked and turned to survey the room. He could hear a small waterfall somewhere in the midst of the vegetation. It was like a rainforest in the middle of the building. The air was thicker, hot and humid. His tight shorts clung to his body even closer as sweat started to form on his body. He didn't mind the heat. Actually, he thoroughly enjoyed it. Saiyans were accustomed to hot climates, though more arid than this place.

Curiosity stirred in his mind as he wondered why this room was even here. He knew there were many animals around, but none had shown themselves yet. Perhaps they were hiding from him. He doubted that. 'The scent of the animals is wild. Most likely there are barriers of some sort to keep them from being able to hurt the humans,' he reasoned.

His tail unwrapped itself from his waist as he poised himself to jump into the tree nearest him. He wanted to explore while no one else was present. He shot one last look over his shoulder to make sure he was alone before he leapt onto a high branch, using his tail for balance. From his new vantage point, he was able to see a dinosaur roaming through the trees. His sudden appearance scared several birds from their perches. He smiled and inhaled deeply.

"Stupid thing, work!" Bulma screamed at the gravity console. She kicked it hard and it sprang to life. She smirked. "Score: Bulma 1, gravity room, 0." Seeing that her work was complete, Bulma put her tools away and wiped her greasy hands on a dirty rag.

She walked down the ramp of the spaceship and was greeted by the fresh scent of her mother's meticulously kept garden nearby. She hadn't even realized just how putrid the air in the chamber was, filled with the smell of old sweat and blood. 'Guess I've gotten used to it after being in there so many times.'

"I should probably tell his royal highness that he can get back to training," she told no one in particular, sarcasm dripping from her every word. Bulma walked back into the compound and headed for the kitchen, which was the most likely place for the surly prince to be.

When she opened the door, she found only her mother there, busily preparing several courses at once. Bulma rolled her eyes, still unable to comprehend why her mother would work so hard for someone who would never appreciate what she did. She stopped and chuckled to herself. 'Aren't I exactly the same? I go out of my way all the time to help his training.'

Hearing her daughter's laugh, Mrs. Brief turned and her ever-present smile widened. "Oh, honey, you're just in time to help me make Vegeta's lunch. He's always working so hard, you know, we can't let him go hungry!"

Bulma groaned at her mother's incessant praise of the man she wished she had never met. She could be so _clueless_ sometimes. And anyway, she hated cooking. So, she tried to worm her way out of it. "Where is Vegeta, Mom?"

"I'm not sure, dear, but the last time I saw him he was in the indoor garden. Maybe he decided to stay in there and wait for his lunch. Why don't you go get him?" Mrs. Brief chirped, serving a massive helping of lo mein onto a platter.

"Alright, I'll be right back," Bulma mumbled as she turned and went to the garden. She thought it unlikely that Vegeta would still be there. He seemed to hate anything purely aesthetic, which is pretty much what that room was. Still, she knew how fond of that room Goku was, so maybe it was a saiyan thing. They did seem to thrive in hotter temperatures. Reaching the double doors, she pushed them open and walked in, but she didn't see anyone there. "Vegeta! Are you in here?" she called out.

There was a moment of silence before a voice shouted back, "What do you want, Woman?"

Bulma was startled and jumped a little. She had not honestly thought that he would be in there anymore. She shrugged and tried again, "Your lunch is almost ready, so get your butt in the kitchen." She scanned the room to see where he was, but he was hidden from her view completely.

Vegeta, far on the other side of the garden, was lying on the floor. He really didn't want to move. "Bring it here."

"What?" she asked, shocked. He not only had the nerve to demand that they cater to him, but also he wanted to eat his lunch in _here_? Why?

"I said, bring it here, Woman. Are you too stupid to understand such a simple command?" Though his words were angry, his tone was not. Bulma couldn't help but notice that he sounded different than usual. Relaxed.

Silently fuming, she turned on her heels and slammed the doors closed behind her. It wasn't until she was back in the kitchen that she realized she had entirely forgotten to tell him that the gravity chamber was ready for him to train again. She shrugged and turned to her mother. "The royal pain in the neck wants us to serve his lunch to him in the garden," she grumbled.

"What a lovely idea! He wants a little picnic in the garden, isn't that cute?" Mrs. Brief giggled and finished plating up the food she had just finished cooking. "Bulma, go find the cart I use for parties so we can take the food to him."

Bulma nodded and left the room in search of the catering cart.

Ten minutes later Mrs. Brief was pushing the cart piled high with food through the doors with Bulma following closely. "Vegeta, honey, your food is here!" she called out in her sing-song voice. Bulma grinded her teeth at the ear-piercing sound. Across the room, Vegeta did the same.

"Fine. You can leave now, Woman," they heard him yell from wherever he was. He leapt into the tree branches again and jumped and swung from tree to tree, his tail flying about erratically trying to find balance. He saw the edge of the forest and jumped to one last branch, latching onto it and swinging around it once before launched himself into a graceful backflip before he landed in a crouch and stood up.

Vegeta sniffed the air and his stomach growled impatiently in response. It was then he noticed that he was not alone. Bulma stood there somewhat awestruck. She hadn't even heard him coming through the trees, and before she knew it he was standing right there at the edge of the small forest.

What surprised her the most, though, was the fact that he had a stowaway that didn't seem to bother him at all. A chipmunk was clinging to his leg, absolutely terrified by the journey through the trees. She couldn't stifle her giggle when she thought how adorable that was. At the soft sound, Vegeta's head jerked in her direction and his face returned to its usual scowl.

"I thought I told you to leave," he snarled.

"No, you told my mother to leave, not me," she retorted. Bulma wasn't even sure why she was still here. She hated being anywhere near him, yet she had wondered why he had stayed in the garden instead of following her mother to the kitchen where he usually waited for his food.

"Hn." Vegeta decided to ignore her and walked over to the cart of food. He carefully placed all the plates of food around him in a circle on the floor and then sat down.

She mentally shrugged and leaned against the wall, waiting for him to finish his meal. She knew that talking to a saiyan who was eating was like talking to a rock. Neither bothered replying to a word she said.

Finally finished with his food, Vegeta seemed to just now notice the small creature attached to his leg. He pinched the scruff of its neck and pulled it off so he could hold it up to eye level. Bulma gasped, afraid that he was going to hurt it. She was shocked when she saw him grab a scrap of food and feed it to the chipmunk who seemed unaware of the danger it was in.

He then set the animal down on the ground and with a short grunt, motioned towards the trees. The chipmunk looked up at him full of trust and then scurried towards the forest.

"Animals listen to you?" Bulma blurted before she could stop herself.

Vegeta looked at her in annoyance, having forgotten that she was in the room with him. "Hn," was his only reply.

Shaking her head in irritation, Bulma planted her hands on her hips and glared down at the saiyan prince. "Whatever, anyway, the gravity chamber is fixed so you can go train."

Before she had finished turning a soft response reached her ears: "Not today."

Bulma nearly fell over from the shock. Vegeta was refusing to continue training for the _whole_ day? Was he sick? Did he have a serious injury he was hiding? She looked back at Vegeta, who was now standing in the midst of dirty plates. "Why?" she whispered, unable to get her voice to work.

She noticed his shoulders and back tensed slightly before he replied, as if he didn't really want to answer but was resigned to the fact that she wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't. "I am content to be here," he grumbled. With that, he turned and leapt back into the trees, disappearing from view.

After watching him go, Bulma began to pick up the dirty dishes and pile them back onto the cart. She was too stunned by what she had just seen and heard to even complain about the chore left for her. As she was pushing the cart back to the kitchen, she started thinking about his interaction with the little chipmunk. 'He acted as if he was caring for it. But why would he do that? Vegeta doesn't care about anything but power. He said he was content there. That's something I _never_ thought I'd hear. Vegeta, content. Nothing's ever good enough for him.' She smirked to herself. 'All he cares about is himself. He's a self-absorbed, conceited, arrogant jerk that expects us all to put him on a pedestal and serve him. And for some reason we do.'

Hours later, Vegeta jerked awake as he heard loud footsteps approaching, cracking twigs and rustling fallen leaves in their path. He growled softly. Whoever was trying to sneak up on him wasn't very good at it; they had obviously never learned the concept of stealth. Slowly, he moved into a crouching position, ready to pounce on the one foolish enough to try hunting him down.

The room was dark now, the sun having set nearly an hour ago. The only light in the room came from the stars above. Though the light was dim, Vegeta could see clearly. He sniffed the air and snarled. What was _he_ doing here?

When he emerged into the small clearing where Vegeta was, he was immediately floored as a huge weight crashed into his chest.

"What are you doing here, Kakarrot?" Vegeta hissed as his scowl returned to his face.

"I came by to see how your training is going. I was thinking maybe we could have a spar to test our strength. Bulma said you were resting, so I decided to wait for you to wake up, but then dinner was ready and Mrs. Brief said I should stay but they won't let me eat until you come, so I came to get you," Goku answered, his words starting to run together at the end. When he finished explaining himself he rubbed the back of his head and grinned at the older saiyan as he got back on his feet.

Vegeta snorted. What a typical response from that low class clown. "Very well. We will eat and then spar if it will get you out of my hair."

"Great!" Goku barely noticed the incident and turned around to run back through the woods. Vegeta watched him take off and jumped into the branches, smirking as he moved above the other saiyan. He dropped to the ground in front of Goku, who nearly plowed into him.

"Whoa, Vegeta, how did you get here before me?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Nevermind that," Vegeta spat before walking out of the garden. He was getting hungry even though he had spent the day resting instead of training. When he reached the kitchen he sat in his usual place at the table and began piling food onto his plate. His hosts may have waited for him before starting, but he never gave them the same respect. He didn't figure he owed it to them. He was a prince, after all, so it was their duty to serve him.

Goku had followed right behind and sat across the table from the prince and started grabbing food and hastily shoving it in his mouth. Acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary, the three humans served themselves and chatted about the events of the day. Neither saiyan was really paying any attention, frantically trying to claim their food before the other was able to grab it away.

"Kakarrot! That is on my plate, it is _mine_," Vegeta growled. The not-so-sneaky hand quickly retracted from his plate and dove for another helping of rice. Goku grinned guiltily and hid his face behind a stack of dirty plates.

Mrs. Brief giggled. "Goku, there's plenty of food here for everyone, don't worry."

"Thanks, Mrs. Brief," he mumbled between mouthfuls of food.

Bulma watched the two saiyans eat in fascination. Their speed was incredible. She wasn't sure how they could eat that fast without choking. She also noted the difference in their eating style. While both ate inhuman amounts of food, Vegeta did so without making the slightest mess. Every bit of food he put in his mouth stayed there. No food slopped onto the table or on his clothes, and there wasn't any food to be found on his face. 'He eats like a prince,' she decided, 'even though he eats a lot, and fast, he does it with grace.' Turning to Goku, she couldn't say the same. He used his hands as much as the eating utensils, food flew out of his mouth as he chewed, and the area surrounding him was a _mess_. She sighed and looked away in disgust. She actually preferred something about Vegeta over Goku. That revelation surprised her.

Long after the Briefs had finished, the two saiyans sat back in their chairs and rubbed their bellies contentedly. "Wow, Mrs. Brief, that was delicious!" Goku exclaimed. Vegeta just grunted.

Mrs. Brief smiled and started clearing the dirty plates away. "Why thank you, Goku."

Bulma started stacking the dishes and carrying them to the sink where her mother was busily washing them. Then a thought struck her. "Hey, Goku, can you talk to animals?" she asked, turning to face him.

Goku looked at her in confusion. "Talk to animals? No, why?"

"Oh. I just thought it was a saiyan thing because Vegeta can do it," she answered, rubbing her chin as she thought.

At the sound of his name, Vegeta listened in on the conversation. "Foolish woman, I do not _talk_ to animals," he informed her.

"What do you mean? They listen to you, don't they?"

"I communicate with them in a way all animals can understand. I can command them to do as I want and they understand it and do it."

This caught the interest of Dr. Brief. Able to communicate with animals? Interesting. "How are you able to communicate with them, Vegeta?"

The saiyan shrugged. "It's something instinctual. Saiyans are basically sentient animals. It makes sense that we are able to do so." The tone of his voice clearly said that he was quickly growing tired of this topic of conversation.

Goku looked even more confused. "But Vegeta, I can't do that with animals."

"You can communicate on _some_ level, Kakarrot. Few saiyans were actually able to control animals as I can. It is probably because I am somewhat…" he trailed off as he tried to think of the words he wanted. The others waited expectantly. He sighed. "My animal side is stronger than that of the average saiyan."

The others nodded in understanding even though they really had no idea what he meant by that. Choosing to end the conversation before more questions could arise, Vegeta stood from the table and looked at Goku. "Let's spar."

Goku jumped out of his seat and followed Vegeta out of the compound. The prince chose not to use the gravity chamber since it was so small. Without a word he took off into the sky. He and Goku arrived at an uninhabited area a few minutes later and landed.

The two saiyans faced each other and simultaneously flew towards one another, starting another all-out saiyan brawl.

_A/N: This is the beginning of an epic long story that only took me four months to write! I'm still in the process of revising it, so chapters will be posted in regular intervals (hopefully). This is AU where Vegeta still has his tail because him losing it in DBZ was possibly the saddest thing ever. I've tried to keep the characters mostly in character, but let's face it, that's not always possible, so don't hate me when they're a little OOC. Usually it doesn't last too long. Also, you will find I'm trying to create bits and pieces of saiyan culture since it was never really explained aside from them being warriors. I apologize in advance if you don't like it._

_Anyway, I know this isn't the best chapter I've written. I promise later chapters get better! As always, please leave me reviews and let me know what you think._

_Song: "Louis XIV" by Louis XIV_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_What are you suffering for?  
Your pride or some kind of personal war?  
And when you throw it away  
For nothing more than a simple taste_

The next morning, Bulma went downstairs to get breakfast before heading to the lab. She walked past the living room and stopped before turning around and peeking in when she thought she saw someone. She gasped at the sight before her.

Vegeta was sprawled out halfway on the couch, his arms stretched out above his head and his lower body was only supported by his knee on the floor. His face was turned away from her, but she could imagine what it must look like. His knuckles were caked with dried blood. His back had burns all over it, still bleeding a little. He was covered in cuts and bruises.

Bulma inched closer to him, assessing the damage done to his body. His tail fell limply between his legs. She could see his profile now, and as she thought, it looked the worse for wear. His jaw was swollen, there was dried blood covering his chin, and there was a deep cut on his temple.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to push him onto his back to see how bad the rest of him looked. At her touch, his hand flew up and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard. She screamed as she thought she felt her bones cracking under the pressure. She tried to pull free but to no avail. His grip was like a vice.

"Vegeta!" she screamed, trying to wake him up, "Vegeta let go of me! That hurts, let go of my wrist!"

He finally woke up and sat up quickly, nearly knocking her over. He let go of her wrist and glared at her. "What the hell were you thinking, Woman?" he snarled.

"I was… uh, I…" her voice stopped working when she saw his chest. Covered in bruises, cuts, burns, and… was that his rib? Wasn't that supposed to be _inside_ his body? Bulma nearly fainted. "What the hell happened to you? You need to go to the infirmary now!"

Vegeta clamped his hands over his ears when her voice reached a volume too much for his sensitive hearing. "Shut up, Woman!" he shouted, and was pleased to note that she immediately stopped her tirade.

Grumbling, he stood up, though his legs nearly gave out under him. He tried to hide the faltering in his steps as he made his way to the door. Head held high, he turned around the corner and out of sight. Bulma looked down at the couch, noticing the ungodly amount of blood on it. "Damnit, stupid saiyan," she muttered and went to make sure he was, indeed, going to the infirmary wing of the compound.

She turned right to head down another hall when she saw Vegeta kneeling on the floor, holding his side where she had seen his rib protruding from his skin. He was breathing heavily and trembling, probably from blood loss. "Vegeta!" she screamed and ran over to him to try to help him up.

He swatted her hand away and winced as pain shot through his body. "Fucking hell…" he mumbled, his voice ragged.

"Vegeta, let me help you," she said softly, trying to get him to trust her.

"I don't need your help, Woman." That said, he forced himself to his feet and continued walking, one hand braced against the wall to steady himself. By will alone he forced one foot in front of the other again and again as he trudged closer to the infirmary. Bulma followed close behind, not wanting to leave him alone in such a state. It was then that she noticed he had yet to move his left arm, which was dangling by his side. 'That's not normal,' she thought. She bit her lip and forced herself to stay patient as she walked behind the proud saiyan.

Once Vegeta reached the room he had found himself in many times before, he collapsed onto the bed, not even uttering a grunt of pain. Bulma had to admit she was impressed with the strength he exhibited. If she had injuries like his, she would have either passed out or cried until someone carried her to a hospital and drugged her up to high heaven. But not Vegeta, oh no. He had to walk himself there. Stubborn saiyan.

Vegeta coughed up a mouthful of blood and unceremoniously spit it out on the floor. Bulma pushed back her disgust and started rummaging around the room for bandages, antibiotics, and salves. Anything to help him get healed fast. She wasn't sure what to do about his broken rib, so she called her father to come help her.

She was somewhat pleased when she found that Vegeta had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Hoping there wouldn't be a repeat of the last time she touched him, she tentatively prodded his shoulder to find what was wrong. She nodded to herself when her thoughts were confirmed. It had been dislocated, not a difficult thing to fix. 'Thank kami he's unconscious,' she thought as she pulled his arm and wrenched it back into place. The popping sound made her gag.

Vegeta's face betrayed no hint of pain as she tended to his wounds. She cleaned his cuts and burns thoroughly and applied the ointments before bandaging him up. Her father came in shortly after she had finished and took care of the broken rib while she watched in case she needed to perform the same procedure in the future.

Bulma sat in the chair by Vegeta's side as she waited for him to wake up again. He would be mostly healed in a couple days, but she needed to make sure he didn't overexert himself in the meantime. "You idiot, what the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to spar, not get yourself killed."

Vegeta made no response. She took that as her cue to continue telling him off.

"You always have to be the tough guy. You get into these fights and come out looking like you went through a meat grinder. Then instead of letting yourself rest and heal you throw yourself back into training. Do you _want_ to die?" Tears were forming in her eyes now. She couldn't understand what could drive a person to such self-destruction. She knew that saiyans grew stronger after a fight, especially after coming near death, but was that a good enough reason to put himself through this torture? She didn't think so.

"You're a fool, Vegeta. Power can't be worth what you do to yourself every day. I've seen how you push yourself above and beyond your limits. You barely rest and only stop training to eat. How can you live like that? What can I do to make you stop, just for a few days?"

Bulma had no idea why she wanted to stop him. If he wasn't training she'd probably be forced to see him more often. She could hardly stand him, why did she care so much about his well-being? Maybe because he wouldn't care for himself. Though spoiled and self-centered, she was still compassionate and hated seeing any other being in pain. And pain was all Vegeta had.

A few stray tears worked their way down Bulma's cheeks as she fell into silence by Vegeta's side. She gasped when she felt something soft brushing against her leg. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was Vegeta's tail. She quickly glanced at his face, but he was still sleeping. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

Curious, Bulma touched his tail. It was surprisingly soft. Smiling, she stroked it gently, enjoying the silkiness of the fur. She had been stroking it for a couple minutes when she heard a low rumbling sound. She looked around for the source but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, she started to pet his tail a little more, and as she did so the sound grew louder. She stopped petting his tail. The sound died out a few seconds later.

'Was that what I think it was?' she asked herself. Deciding to experiment, she started petting his tail again. The rumbling sound followed shortly after. She smiled and looked up at Vegeta. She knew it! He was purring!

Not knowing how he would take it if he found her doing that, she reluctantly took her hand away from his tail. Slowly, it wrapped itself around his waist again. Bulma tapped her foot somewhat impatiently as time passed. Nearly a half hour later, Vegeta's breathing quickened and his eyes slowly opened. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright light in the small white room.

Vegeta sat up and took in his surroundings more thoroughly. The last thing his eyes landed on was the blue-haired woman sitting next to him dozing off. 'Why is she asleep every time I wake up in this stupid place?' he wondered. He shrugged and slid off of the bed quietly, not wanting to hear her harping at him to take it easy. He was sore enough that he already knew it might be a day or two before he could resume his usual training. He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder again to make sure she wasn't following him. Satisfied that she was still asleep, he crept down the hall to the kitchen.

Outside the door, he tried to sense if there was anyone in the kitchen. Feeling no ki, he pushed the door open and looked around. Empty. Good. He went in and raided the refrigerator before sneaking back out and cautiously made his way to the double doors he had first noticed the day before. He looked around, making sure nobody would see him as he slipped into the indoor garden. His arms laden with food, he was unable to swing through the trees, so he walked through the forest on roughly the same path he had seen the clown take the previous night.

Vegeta sat on the ground in the small clearing he had slept in and dropped the food on the ground around him. He didn't mind that it wasn't cooked. As if that would bother a saiyan's stomach. He was soon joined by a multitude of animals of various sizes, but none dared approach his food if he didn't offer it. Finishing his meal, he laid back in the grass and looked up at the sun. It was late morning, but he was still tired. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a light sleep.

Bulma woke up about fifteen minutes after her patient had slipped out unnoticed. She huffed in frustration when she saw that he was gone and left the room to look for him. Fearing the worst, she rushed to her lab and turned on the security cameras in the gravity chamber to make sure he wasn't training. She was relieved to find it empty. 'Where else would he go?' she wondered.

She got up from her seat and decided to check the kitchen. That was his second favorite place to be in the whole compound, after all. She found the kitchen empty, but the vacant refrigerator told her that a certain house guest had indeed been there shortly before her. She sighed, rubbed her forehead, and tried to think of where else he would be.

Running upstairs, she peered down the hall but saw no one. She knocked on the door to his guest room but there was no answer. That didn't particularly surprise her since he almost never did, even if he was in there. She pushed it open a couple inches before calling out, "Vegeta, are you here?" No answer. She opened the door all the way and looked around. Growing increasingly frustrated, she checked his bathroom, in the closet, and even under the bed to make sure he wasn't just hiding from her for some unknown reason.

'Where the hell did he go?' she wondered. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sat on the edge of the bed to calm down before searching again. 'He wouldn't be there again, would he?' It was about the only place she hadn't looked that he was likely to be. Bulma got up from the bed and went downstairs. It had been twenty minutes since she had started looking for him and she wasn't happy about it.

She threw the double doors of the indoor garden open and yelled, "Vegeta, where are you?" Placing her hands on her hips, she waited for a reply. Some birds flew out of the trees at the sound of her voice but otherwise it was silent. "Damnit, Vegeta, if you're in here just tell me."

Vegeta's eyes snapped open after the first time she yelled. He wasn't sure if he had actually heard anything or if he had been dreaming, though. When he heard her yell the second time, he grumbled to himself, not sure if he should answer. It might be more amusing to watch her try to find him. Then again, he really just wanted to go back to sleep and the big mouth was likely to keep yelling until she got an answer or finally figured he wasn't there. "Go away, Woman," he shouted.

"Vegeta, I need to change your bandages," she called out to him.

He grumbled some more before he stood up and dusted himself off. He didn't really need her ministrations, but he knew she would pester him until he let her take care of him. She was powerless aside from her obnoxious voice. He'd do almost anything to avoid hearing it screaming at him.

Bulma waited. She knew that he was probably deliberating between coming out and trying to outwait her. But she had nowhere to be, so she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Who knew how long it would take for him to show himself?

"Idiot woman…" he mumbled to himself as he silently picked his way through the forest. Unlike Goku, he was extremely stealthy in wooded areas, even if he was not stalking prey or being hunted. That's why Bulma was so startled when she looked up and saw him standing only a few feet in front of her. He glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Come on, Vegeta," she said and motioned for him to follow her back to the infirmary.

He hesitated. No one told the Prince of all Saiyans what to do. Still, he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, so following her instructions would be the easiest way to deal with her for now. So, with a few choice words grumbled under his breath, he followed her to the infirmary.

"Sit on the bed," she told him over her shoulder and she opened a cabinet to pull out some clean bandages for his wounds. Vegeta sat down and waited.

"Are you going to change these damned bandages or not, Woman?"

She sighed and turned to face him, new bandages in her hands. She rolled her eyes at his impatience and went over to him and started pulling the bloody bandages off his body and rubbed more salve on the wounds before placing new bandages on them. Once finished, she backed away quickly. "How does your rib feel?" she asked.

Vegeta shrugged. The dull pain had not been bothering him, so he had almost forgotten it had been broken last night. He figured she was finished, so he hopped off the bed and turned to leave.

"You can't train for a couple days," she told him firmly.

He didn't turn around as he replied, "I know that, Woman." He continued to walk away, determined to ignore anything else she might say. She was stunned into silence by his reply. She hoped he wasn't injured worse than he let on if he was willing to take a couple days off training without any kind of argument.

Seeing that he had disappeared down the hall, Bulma ran out and followed after him. "So what are you going to do?" she asked. He had never taken a day off when he wasn't unconscious. She honestly had no idea what he would do in his free time. She worried it wouldn't be good – at least for the people of Earth.

He stopped in his tracks and again, without turning around, shrugged. "What do you suggest I do? I have no idea how humans entertain themselves."

"Well, you could watch television, or a movie. Or read a book. Go for a walk in the park. I could take you to the beach! That would be fun. I'd have an excuse to wear my new bikini and I know a place where the paparazzi doesn't follow me. I need to work on my tan anyway—"

"Woman, stop your incessant babbling!"

Bulma snapped her mouth shut and blushed a little. Now that she thought about it, he probably wouldn't be interested in any of those things. She was just naming off what _she_ liked to do and they were _nothing_ alike. She exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry 'Geta, but I really don't know what sort of things you like to do for fun."

"Fun?"

She looked at him closely. He was still facing away from her, but she looked for any signs that he was just being his usual sarcastic self. Something told her he was completely honest in asking what fun meant. "You know, what you do for enjoyment, how you get your kicks. You know. Fun." How else could she explain it?

This time he turned around and smirked. "I kill people for enjoyment. Is that what you mean?"

Bulma's face blanched. She had really hoped he wouldn't say something like that. But he did, and now she had to get him off that train of thought, fast. "No! No that is not what I mean. You did that as your um… your job. I guess. That's not fun, that's work. You fight for fun, I guess, but not kill people." I think, she added mentally.

His smirk widened. Of course he had no intentions of going out and killing people, but he did want to see her reaction. It was satisfactory. "What else is there for me to do, then?" He looked at her quizzically, curious to hear what the self-proclaimed genius had to say.

Bulma had to stop and think. What did he ever do besides eat, train, and sleep? Those three things were basically his life. She had never seen him just relaxing, taking time to enjoy life. She tried to think of all the things she did for fun. One of her very favorite things to do, of course, was shopping. She doubted Vegeta would enjoy that very much, but if nothing else she might have some fun taking him and he needed more clothes anyway. She and her mother had bought him a few things, but a lot of them didn't fit well anymore since his muscle had been bulking up over the past few months. Even if he didn't want to go shopping, he needed to.

"Well, how about we go on a shopping spree? You need some new clothes. All the things you have now are getting way too small." Bulma smiled as she thought about the fun she was going to have at the mall. "Oh, but before we go, you should change into something other than your training shorts."

He shook his head at her audacity and turned on his heel to go to his room. He figured she knew what was appropriate and what was not in this world. Soon he was rifling through the clothes the blonde woman had bought him when he first came to live at Capsule Corp. He had hardly worn any of it since he never left the compound.

What did he usually see other people wearing? He thought for a moment. Who had he ever seen outside of the woman's family and her stupid friends? He scratched his head. All he knew was that he was _not_ going to wear those damned yellow pants and pink shirt again.

He frowned at the selection. Eventually he pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt that clung to his biceps. He put his black cross trainers back on and looked himself over in the mirror, making sure he would fit in with the humans. He ran his hand through his flame of hair and shrugged. Did it really matter anyway? He went back downstairs to wait for the woman.

_A/N: So… I was originally intending to wait a few more days to post the next chapter, but I couldn't hold out on you. :) Well, here it is, obviously. Reviews are welcome!_

_Song: "To a Friend" by Alexisonfire_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Step back, smell the rose  
Feel the sand between your toes  
Unplug, unwind  
Step out in the sunshine_

Vegeta leaned against the wall in the entryway of the Capsule Corp compound with one foot against the wall and his arms cross over this chest. He scowled at the opposite wall as he waited for the woman. It was her stupid idea to go shopping, so why was _he_ the one who ended up waiting on _her_? It didn't make sense.

Bulma ran down the stairs to find the saiyan by the door, already dressed. She had to admit he looked, well, normal. The corners of her mouth quirked upward but she refrained from smiling openly because she figured he wouldn't appreciate it. She needed to keep him as calm as possible if they were going to anywhere near other people. She had never seen him in a crowd, but she had an idea it could end badly if his temper were to flare up. Bulma walked over to Vegeta and stood in front of him.

Vegeta had been staring at the floor, but now there was a pair of white and pink sneakers in front of him. His gaze slowly moved up her slender legs to her blue running shorts, tight white t-shirt with the CC logo on the front, to her face. She was not smiling, but for some reason he could see her happiness in her blue eyes.

"Ready, 'Geta?" she asked.

"Don't call me that, Woman," he growled. His tone of voice sent a shiver down her spine and she nodded before looking away quickly.

"Ok, let's go." She walked out the door and threw the capsule she had been holding on the ground. The smoke cleared to reveal a flashy blue motorcycle. Vegeta wondered if she always coordinated her outfit with her mode of transportation. It was ridiculous.

Vegeta raised his eyebrow when she pulled her blue helmet on and climbed onto the motorcycle. "I'm supposed to ride this thing?" he asked warily.

"Yep, just sit behind me and hold on," she grinned at him and waited. She almost laughed when she saw his hesitation. "Don't be scared, I promise I'll drive safe," she added when he looked like he was going to turn around and march right back into the house.

He scoffed. "I'm not scared, you foolish woman." He took a step closer and, inhaling deeply as he swallowed his pride, sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Bulma giggled as she revved up the engine and took off in a cloud of dust. She sped through the streets of West City at dangerous speeds, weaving in and out of traffic. Vegeta held on to her loosely, actually enjoying the insane driving of the woman. Of course he would never admit that out loud.

They got stopped at a stoplight, much to Bulma's chagrin, when a red sports car pulled up next to her in the other lane. "Hey, baby, why don't you lose the freak and ride with us?" the driver shouted to Bulma. She glanced over at him in annoyance and noted that he was probably only a teenager. She could feel Vegeta's grip on her tighten and she had to wonder why.

She looked over her shoulder and saw the saiyan prince glaring angrily at the punk. She was sure that if looks could kill, the driver of that car would be dead. Completely obliterated. She was thankful that his glare was not directed at her for once.

"Just ignore him, Vegeta," she whispered pleadingly over her shoulder. He relaxed again.

"What's wrong, baby, don't you want a real man?" the kid asked, making kissy sounds at her. Bulma rolled her eyes and considered letting her passenger blast him into another dimension.

Instead, she turned to the driver and smirked. "How 'bout this. We'll race to the next red light. If you win, then I'll give you my number," she issued her challenge and winked at him. Vegeta stared at her with his jaw dropping.

'This woman is crazy. Why would she show interest in a low class moron like him?' he asked himself. He shrugged mentally and decided to see how this would turn out. He figured she wouldn't have made the offer if she wasn't sure that she would win.

"You got a deal, babe," the punk answered.

When the light turned green, Bulma flew forward on the motorcycle. She pulled far ahead of the red car and Vegeta looked back to see it gaining on her. 'Faster, Woman,' he urged mentally. He didn't want that idiot to have any kind of victory that day. His pride was partially at stake here. No one called him 'freak' and got away with it.

The car was now even with Bulma's motorcycle and she saw the light up ahead turning yellow. She started to panic as she forced her cycle to go faster, but it had hit its limit. Seeing that she was going to lose, Vegeta made a quick decision to help her out without her knowing. He thrust his ki behind him like he did when flying. They shot forward in a sudden burst of speed and easily overtook the punk's car, stopping at the light a solid twenty seconds before him.

Bulma smirked smugly. She had an idea that she had had some help, but she didn't want to mention it. Vegeta did not like being recognized when he did even the smallest thing to help anybody out. She stuck her tongue out at the punk when he started cursing and demanding a rematch because she cheated somehow.

When the light turned green, Bulma whipped around the corner and Vegeta made a rude hand gesture to the punk. He had to admit, this trip had been somewhat enjoyable so far.

Bulma turned into a large parking lot outside of a massive building. She told him they were going to a mall. He hadn't known what a 'mall' was, but he didn't think it would be a building like this. Bulma stopped in front of the door and took her helmet off. Vegeta jumped off and she encapsulated her motorcycle again and stuck in her pocket.

Vegeta's tail tightened around his waist as he followed the woman through the glass doors. Inside, he was hit by the sound of music blasting from several locations causing a painful cacophony mixed with hundreds, maybe thousands of people talking at once and footsteps on the marble floor. He cringed as his sensitive saiyan hearing was assaulted from every direction. His discomfort was intensified by the scent of all those chattering humans intermingling with the aromas wafting from the nearby food court. He gagged slightly. It was sensory overload.

He screamed and clamped his hands over his ears and tried to bury his nose in the crook of his arm to block out the putrid scents. He closed his eyes and doubled over. "What is this hell, Woman?" he yelled.

Bulma turned and saw her companion in what appeared to be a great deal of pain. "Vegeta! Are you alright?" she asked and rubbed his back, ignoring his flinching.

"I have to get out of here," he growled and did an about face, throwing the doors open, and running back out into the relatively fresh air. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, allowing his reeling mind to calm down.

Bulma followed after him and stood next to him outside, unsure of what had just happened. "What's wrong, Vegeta?" she asked, seriously concerned.

It was a while before he bothered answering. He was wondering exactly why he had allowed himself to be talked into leaving the compound. It was quiet there. Barely any humans. He was given solitude there. It was perfect. This place was the exact opposite. He sighed. "It reeks in there, Woman. It's so loud I thought my ears were going to bleed." As if considering the possibility, he checked his hands to make sure there wasn't any blood on them. Satisfied, he turned to face the woman. "I can't go back in there."

Realization finally hit her. Why hadn't she considered his heightened senses? Even she knew that the mall was a noisy, stinking place, but it hardly bothered her. It made sense that it was unbearable to a full-blooded saiyan. Maybe that was why Goku hated shopping.

She had promised to get him new clothes though. If he could make it to just one department store, he would be fine. It was always pretty quiet in there. "Come on, Vegeta, you can endure it long enough to get to a store. Just breathe through your mouth and keep your ears covered if you have to."

Vegeta glared over his shoulder at the doors to the mall. He was definitely wishing he hadn't come on this stupid trip now. He spared a glance at the woman to see her smiling at him, willing him to go in with her. He growled softly and the tip of his tail twitched in irritation.

"Goku could do it," she added.

This time he growled louder, the threatening sound scaring her enough to make her take a couple steps back away from him. Maybe telling him that hadn't been such a good idea. But then, he turned towards the door and braced himself. She noticed the tension in his back and shoulders but pretended not to. She pushed the door open and led him in again.

Vegeta followed her advice in breathing through his mouth to make the smell of the place more bearable, but he refused to embarrass himself further by covering his ears. "Hurry up, then," he ordered.

Bulma smiled and grabbed his hand. At first he intended to pull it free, but then she started pushing and shoving through the crowd, pulling him along behind her. They were moving at a decent pace, considering the thick crowd they had to get through. After what seemed like hours of sensory torture, Bulma pulled a door open and practically dragged him in. His ears were greeted by the beautiful sound of silence. He sighed in relief.

He wrenched his hand free from Bulma's tight grip and crossed his arms as he followed her further into the store. They had only advanced a few steps before the saiyan once again stopped and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"What is that horrible smell?" he groused a little too loudly. A few passers-by stared at the saiyan for his uncivil behavior. Bulma felt the color in her cheeks rising.

She grabbed his hand again and tried to pull him forward, but the saiyan wouldn't budge. "It's just the perfume section of the store. Come on, we'll go past it and you won't have to smell it anymore."

With a considerable amount of grumbling, Vegeta finally consented to move by the perfumes, glaring at all the bottles of stinking, offensive fluids as he hastened onward. The smell was strong enough to make his eyes water. Once through that area, he snorted to rid his nostrils of the lingering scents, not caring in the least that he was embarrassing his companion.

It wasn't long before they reached the men's section, much to Bulma's relief. She was already starting to regret taking Vegeta shopping. She figured he would be most interested in casual clothes, since he had no reason to dress up, so she led him to look at jeans and t-shirts.

"So, what do you like?" she asked as she absent-mindedly flipped through some brightly colored shirts.

Vegeta's lip curled in a snarl when he saw what she was looking at. "Not that."

She rolled her eyes and moved to a different rack. "Ok, no bright colors. Check. How about these?" The shirts she was pointing to were considerably darker.

"Hn," he grunted with a shrug. His eyes roamed around to other things, showing his disinterest in what she thought he might like.

Bulma huffed and put her hands on her hips as she glared at the flame-haired alien. "Fine, if you don't like what I'm choosing, then why don't _you_ pick something out instead of just standing there?" she hissed.

With a dramatic eyeroll he strode over to a table with simple, solid-colored t-shirts laid out on it. They were dark enough for his taste and made of a material that was appealing to the touch. That was all he cared about, if he had to care about anything. He picked a navy blue shirt up and tossed it to Bulma, who barely managed to catch it before it smacked her in the face.

"Wow, blue, how original," she remarked snidely. When she checked the size she had to suppress a laugh. "Hey, do you even know what size you wear?"

Vegeta turned around and quirked an eyebrow. "What size I wear? Don't tell me your human clothes are so primitive they don't adjust to fit you."

"No, Vegeta, they don't," she groaned, dragging her hand across her face in exasperation. "Look, I don't know what size you wear either, so you're just going to have to try them on before we buy them." She handed him a shirt and directed him to the fitting rooms nearby.

The saiyan followed her gaze and sneered when he saw what she was pointing to. He shook his head. "I am not lowering myself to trying on clothes any sniveling human may have already worn."

"Kami, Vegeta!" Bulma screeched, throwing the shirt at him, "just go try it on!"

He snatched the shirt out of the air and scowled at the blue-haired woman with a ferocity that made her want to cower in fear. "You insolent, disrespectful, loudmouth wench," he snarled, "You will not order me around as if I am some kind of lap dog. I am not going to go into that filthy 'fitting room' to put on something that another piece of trash has already rejected."

Bulma swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his gaze. "How the hell are we supposed to know what size you wear if you won't try anything on?"

Growling, Vegeta stalked off to the fitting room to try the damned shirt on, if only to get the whole ordeal over with soon. He practically ripped his shirt off once inside and pulled the new one on, but he was displeased with the way it constricted his movement. He tore it off and put his own shirt back on before leaving the fitting room with an angrier than usual scowl on his face. "It's not big enough," he grumbled, tossing the garment back on the table.

"How much too small?" Bulma asked calmly, picking up a new shirt in a larger size.

"A lot," he answered. He sighed when she shoved another shirt into his hands. His tail uncoiled from his waist and lashed angrily behind him as he decided to forgo the fitting room and ripped his shirt off in the middle of the store.

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed angrily as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She looked around and was relieved that no one was around to see the saiyan's awful behavior.

By the time her eyes returned to him, Vegeta already had the new shirt on. It appeared to fit fairly well, though it was a little tight across his broad shoulders. He was busy testing his range of motion as she eyed the way it fit him. "How's it feel?" she asked once he was done checking his ability to move freely.

He shrugged. "It's adequate."

She nodded, figuring another size up would be too loose. If there was a single thing she knew about the prince, it was that he didn't like anything to be sloppy. And a loose-fitting shirt would certainly be considered sloppy by his standards. She blushed again when he pulled the shirt off and put his back on.

"Alright, we'll get you a few of those. Want any different colors?"

Vegeta glanced at the selection and shook his head. He turned away as she started picking up a pile of navy blue shirts in his size and walked off to explore a little. When she saw that the volatile saiyan had disappeared, she began to panic, knowing he was more than capable of causing more trouble than the rest of her not-quite-socialized friends combined. She didn't have to look long before she saw a black flame of hair in the middle of the athletic clothes.

She smiled when found what he was interested in. "Find something you like?"

"Hn," came the usual neutral response. Vegeta dropped what he'd been examining and feigned boredom again.

"Well, then I won't get it for you if you don't like it," she shrugged, hoping he would give up his façade. She knew why he liked what he had been looking at it. It was almost like the bodysuit he had, though not _quite_ as stretchy. "Under Armour is good stuff."

"So get some," Vegeta grumbled as he stalked off to look at something else.

"Oh fine, you grouch," Bulma muttered as she picked out a few shirts for him. When she figured she'd gotten enough, she ran after the saiyan in the direction she saw him go. Once again she saw his hair before anything else. When she caught up to him she found him looking at pants. She knew he needed new ones, but she was afraid of what he might do if she asked him to try some on for size.

Vegeta glanced at the blue-haired woman as she approached. "Do humans have any _durable_ material?" he asked tersely.

She rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. "They have material durable enough for any _ordinary_ wear," she grumbled through clenched teeth. "I don't care what material you wear, you'll have it destroyed within minutes. So shut up and pick something."

The saiyan smirked, his tail waving behind him in amusement. He loved getting a rise out of her, especially when it involved taking the enjoyment out of something she wanted to do. He pulled a pair of black training pants off the rack and threw them onto the pile of clothes Bulma was holding.

"Do they fit?" she asked hesitantly.

He shrugged and went to a rack with athletic shorts and started looking through them. He did like how lightweight they were, even if he knew they wouldn't last very long. He supposed that didn't matter; he could just demand more and the woman or her insane mother would go and buy some for him. He threw a few pairs of shorts to Bulma.

She frowned at the saiyan prince and took a deep, calming breath. "Vegeta, you have to try them on. I'm not buying anything for you until I know they fit you. That's just how it works."

The tip of Vegeta's tail twitched, showing his changing mood. His usual scowl returned to his face. "No, this is how it works, Woman. I choose clothes, you buy them. If you do not, I really don't care, but you are the one who said I 'need' new clothes. So, we can do things my way, or we can go back to the compound right now."

"How do the pants you're wearing fit?"

Vegeta was thrown off by her question. What did that have to do with anything? He narrowed his eyes as he glared at her. "They're comfortable enough."

That answer wasn't good enough for Bulma. She dropped the clothes she was carrying on the floor and stomped over to the saiyan and matched his glare as she hooked her finger in his pants and tugged. She ignored the flash of white as he bared his teeth at her in a snarl.

"These are too tight," she said calmly. "What size are they?"

Vegeta backed away from her and turned his back on her, feeling deeply offended and humiliated. The woman was too bold for her own good, in his opinion. He had no idea how true that was until he felt the back of his pants being tugged. He whipped his head around and saw her looking down his pants. He growled and jumped over the rack that was in front of him to get away from her, spinning around mid-air and landing in a defensive crouch.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted.

"Checking the size," she answered. "Now I know what to get you." She almost laughed at the unmistakable blush in the proud saiyan's cheeks.

Vegeta slowly rose to his full height and glowered at her with rage burning in his eyes. "I am done with this foolishness, Woman."

Nodding, Bulma picked the clothes up, pleased to see the pants and shorts he picked were actually the correct size, and went in search of the nearest register. She was almost as eager as the saiyan to get out of the store. He was embarrassing her and he was clearly losing patience. She knew better than anyone how temperamental her houseguest was and knew better than to keep him around too many people when he was in a particularly foul mood.

Once the clothes were paid for, Bulma put them in a capsule and stuffed it in her pocket. She grabbed Vegeta's hand, much to his chagrin, and led him to the exit. "Now, that wasn't so bad was it?" she asked.

"If by 'not so bad' you mean miserable, then yes," he quipped. It really hadn't been too bad, but he wanted to get under her skin for putting him through the unpleasant experience of the mall, the perfume section, and the fitting room. He wrapped his tail around his waist securely so it wouldn't give away his amusement when he saw her temper flare.

Bulma frowned. It was so like him to just turn his nose up at anything she tried to do for him. She slowly counted to ten in her mind as she tried to calm herself down before screaming at the arrogant prince.

"This was a waste of time. I'm going back to Capsule Corp," Vegeta stated. He turned to leave.

"Wait, Vegeta, don't you want to do something else? There's surely something else you like to do?" Bulma asked, willing him to stay with her instead of taking off in a fit of rage and scaring everyone around him.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What else could _possibly_ interest me?"

She hadn't expected him to give in so easily. "I don't know, you tell me." She was praying to Kami that he would want to do something other than beat people up.

Vegeta was about to respond when his stomach answered for him. The loud growling sound turned the heads of a small family that had just come in the store. Bulma put her hand over her mouth as she giggled. Vegeta just scowled at her.

"Why don't we go get something to eat?" she suggested casually. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, why don't we?" he stated more than asked.

"Come on, there's a buffet in the mall that should be able to fill your saiyan appetite," Bulma said as she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the store. He was immediately assaulted by the smells and sounds of the mall, but he did not fight her.

After a few long minutes they walked into the buffet. The sounds from outside were muffled and the aroma of food blocked out the rest. Vegeta inhaled deeply and watched as Bulma paid for two meals. She led him to a booth where they sat down. Soon a waitress took their order of drinks and they got up to go get food.

Bulma filled one plate and went to sit back down, finding their drinks waiting for them on the table. She began to eat and a few minutes later Vegeta sat down across from her with four plates piled high with food. She nearly choked when she saw it. Didn't he know he could get up for more food when he was finished with one plate?

She watched him silently devour his food in his usual princely manner. When he had finished all four plates he got up and went back for more. Apparently he did know. She shrugged and continued eating her first plate. He came back with four more plates and repeated his routine. She shook her head in wonder. He'd eaten eight plates _heaped _with food, and she had only eaten one.

When he got up yet again, she had to laugh at the absurdity of it. Where the hell did saiyans _put_ all the food they ate? She sipped her drink and waited for him to come back, curious to see how much food he got this time. After waiting a few minutes, he returned with four more plates. She nearly fell out of her seat.

Tiring of watching him eat, Bulma slid out of the booth and went back to the buffet, intent on taking forever in getting just a little more food. She made herself a salad and finally returned to her seat just in time to see Vegeta sitting back down with four more plates. She rolled her eyes. Saiyan appetites were, in a word, ridiculous. She briefly wondered if they had been feeding him enough at Capsule Corp.

Vegeta's speed finally decreased as he worked his way through his last plate. Bulma put her fork down and pushed her half eaten salad away. The waitress came by their table and picked up the dirty dishes, muttering something about the incredibility of one person eating so much.

"Are you finished?" Bulma ventured to ask.

He looked at her as if she asked the most idiotic question in the world. "Yes."

"So what do you want to do now?" Vegeta shrugged. It really made no difference to him.

Bulma sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. She had to think of something to keep the saiyan occupied. If she didn't, who knew what hell would break loose? She figured keeping him away from large crowds would be a good idea. He would probably lose patience if she took him to another highly populated place and kill somebody. Probably her.

"We could go to West City Park. It's so nice out, it would be a shame to stay cooped up inside all day," she said.

"Hn," he grunted. She assumed that was an affirmative.

"Then let's go, 'Geta!" she said and stood up, grinning at him.

"Do not call me that, Woman," he growled. She rolled her eyes. He was always such a downer.

Bulma led him back out of the mall by the quickest route possible and threw the capsule on the ground. She thought for a moment before deciding to ask, "Do you want to drive this time, Vegeta?"

His eyes widened for a moment before he smirked evilly. "Sure you can hold on?" he asked smugly.

She grinned and pulled her helmet on. Vegeta got on the motorcycle and she climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. As if on its own accord, his tail wrapped tightly around her waist as he took off so fast she was nearly thrown off the back.

Bulma's screams of terror eventually gave way to squeals of delight as Vegeta drove them through the city. She would occasionally shout directions to him and he would comply without a word. She hung onto him tighter, blushing slightly as she felt his muscles through his shirt. 'Man, he's like rock hard,' she thought. She was violently forced out of her thoughts when Vegeta slammed on the brakes.

"Vegeta! What the hell?" she screamed. She peered around his shoulder and saw that they were at a red light. "Oh…" she mumbled.

Vegeta smirked. So maybe he could have slowed down a little beforehand. Too late now. His tail tightened around her waist when he felt her moving forward out of her seat. He felt her grip around his waist tighten and his smirk turned into an evil grin. He could smell the fear and adrenaline radiating off her.

As fate would have it, the same punk from earlier pulled up next to the pair on the blue motorcycle. "Hey, you bitch, you owe me another race!" he screamed at Bulma.

"Can't, honey, you see I'm not driving this time," she said back sweetly.

"Then I'll race against your freak," he snarled.

Vegeta ground his teeth. He had little patience for anyone, but this moron was grating on his last nerve. The vein on his forehead began to throb as he tried to hold his anger in check. Sensing that something was wrong, Bulma tried to calm him down. "Vegeta, don't let him get to you, he's an idiot," she cooed in his ear as she started stroking his tail as she had done when he was unconscious in the infirmary.

Instead of relaxing, Vegeta tensed up more and growled threateningly. Bulma immediately stopped touching his tail and wrapped her arm around his waist again. Well, at least she was right about one thing, he wouldn't want her touching his tail. Duly noted.

The light turned green. Vegeta was pushing the accelerator down hard before the change could even register in anyone else's mind. Bulma shrieked in shock and nearly fell off the back again, held on only by the tail wrapped firmly around her. She looked back and couldn't even see the red dot that would be the car she had raced against earlier.

"Turn left in two blocks," she told him, pressing her face into his back. He was going too fast for her to enjoy anymore. The city around her was just a gray blur. Vegeta swerved left on the street she indicated and swung his body to the right to balance as the motorcycle nearly crashed on its side. Bulma screamed and dug her fingers into his stomach.

After a moment she realized she was still alive and opened her eyes slowly, loosening her grip slightly. "It's just up ahead, maybe a mile," she shouted so he could hear her.

He nodded and sped forward. They flew past a policeman who had been stuffing his face with donuts and coffee. When he saw the blue blur fly past, he sputtered and pulled out onto the road, giving chase. Bulma looked over her shoulder when she heard a siren behind her and groaned. Shit. Not only was Vegeta driving over a hundred miles over the speed limit, he didn't have a driver's license.

"Vegeta, we've got company, you have to pull over," she yelled above the wind.

"What for?" he demanded. He didn't even slow down.

"You're kind of breaking the law, so the police are following us. We'll be in big trouble if we don't stop," she reasoned with him.

"Not if they can't catch us," he replied. She gulped. "Hang on tight." With that, he used his ki to push them up into the air. He reached down and capsulated the motorcycle and grabbed Bulma around the waist. He flew down and landed outside the gate to the city park and watched as the police went flying past them, unaware that the perpetrator was no longer on the road ahead. Vegeta smirked.

Bulma started laughing. She was completely out of breath and had to lean against him for support. When she finally regained control, she pulled her helmet off and capsulated it, stuffing it in her pocket. Vegeta put the motorcycle in his pocket.

"Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?" she asked breathlessly.

Vegeta shrugged. "This technology is fairly primitive. I could have driven something like this before I was five years old." Bulma frowned as he shortchanged her hand-crafted cycle, but shook it off. She knew he had seen and used technology she could only dream of while in space.

"Whatever. So anyway, here's the park," she stated redundantly.

"Yes, here is the park," he grumbled. He wondered why she never said anything useful.

Bulma chuckled and grabbed his arm and pulled him through the gate. He resisted a little, but allowed her to pull him anyway. They began walking down a dirt path through a lightly wooded area. Vegeta began to relax as the scents of the city grew fainter and he heard birds and small mammals scurrying through the branches above him.

This was not unnoticed by the blue-haired genius. "You really like nature, don't you?" she stated as much as asked.

He glanced at her and considered whether or not to answer. Failing to see any harm in it, he answered, "Yes. As I've told you before, I'm more animal than man. No saiyan likes to be in a synthetic environment too much."

Bulma considered that for a few minutes. Was that why Goku lived so far out in the mountains, rarely ever leaving his home even to visit his friends? He was surrounded by nature on all sides, and barely spent more than an hour indoors if he could help it when he wasn't sleeping. And yet she knew that Vegeta spent practically his entire life since coming to Earth in the gravity chamber or in the compound.

"But you're always inside when you're at Capsule Corp," she reminded him.

He looked at her again and frowned. "True. I have spent most of my life inside spaceships. I supposed I have grown accustomed to such surroundings, even if I do not particularly care for them."

Bulma nodded and decided to stop talking for a while. She knew that if she asked too many questions he would get irritated and leave. And he still had her motorcycle. She didn't feel like walking all the way back to Capsule Corp. It was strange, being in his presence when he wasn't demanding repairs for the gravity chamber or food. He didn't talk much, but it was still almost pleasant. Almost. She couldn't forget that she was taking a walk with a mass murderer alien who wanted to kill her best friend and destroy the planet. She chuckled despite herself.

She felt his eyes on her, looking at her questioningly. She stopped laughing and shook her head as if to say, 'Nevermind.' Satisfied enough, he turned away again and surveyed his surroundings. It was peaceful here. If he closed his eyes, it would almost remind him of home. Almost. But never quite. There was no other world like his and never would be. He sighed.

Bulma gave him a sidelong glance and thought she saw a hint of sadness in his deep black eyes. It passed by quickly though, so she wasn't sure. She wanted to ask if he was alright, but she knew he would take offense and possibly go ballistic on her. She decided it was safer not to ask and held her tongue.

After walking for several minutes, the trees gave way to a small lake that the dirt path continued around. There were benches spaced periodically around it, many occupied by elderly couples or mothers with small children. Some were feeding the ducks and others were just sitting and enjoying the view.

Peaceful. It was a foreign concept to the saiyan prince. He knew he should be enjoying himself, but he found his guard going up the longer he felt the strange sensation… peace. Contentment. There had to be something lurking around the next corner, an ambush, something. But there was no one there to harm him. It was starting to put him on edge.

Bulma noticed his change in demeanor and decided to find the cause of it. She looked around and saw nothing that would seem threatening. At least not to her. She had to remember that Frieza probably could have twisted anything into something evil. But she had no idea what. Finally, concern got the better of her. "Vegeta, what's wrong? Why are you so tense?"

She could almost see him jump when he heard her voice so close to him, as if he had forgotten she was next to him. She watched his profile, but it gave nothing away, and he didn't seem to want to answer. Finally, haltingly, he said, "It is so quiet here. I can't trust it. I keep expecting an attack from any direction."

"Vegeta, no one wants to hurt you. Even if they wanted to, they couldn't," she told him.

He nodded and tried to calm down, but his guard was still up. He grew frustrated with his own inability to unwind. Years of stress had left their mark on him. As Bulma had had the misfortune of finding out the hard way, even when he slept his guard was up. He had actually been surprised that she was able to touch him before he reacted. He must have really been out of it that morning.

Just then, they heard growling and barking growing louder behind them. They turned to see a large dog barreling toward them, its leash trailing after it. It looked angry, and the targets of its anger were a flame-haired saiyan and a blue-haired human. Bulma saw the owner chasing it, calling for it to stop, but it wasn't listening.

"Vegeta, do something!" she cried and jumped behind him, using him as a shield against the rabid dog.

She saw his tail bristle and unwrap itself from his waist. It flicked angrily behind him. He bared his teeth and emitted a loud warning growl. Bulma took a step back, unsure of whether she'd rather deal with a crazy dog or a defensive saiyan. She decided she had much better odds against a bear than the saiyan and retreated farther.

The volume of Vegeta's growl grew until the dog finally halted. It put its head down and tucked its tail between its legs before crawling back to its owner, whimpering softly. Vegeta smoothed his tail out with his hand and wrapped it around his waist again. He turned and spotted Bulma a few yards away, white as a sheet.

He smirked. "Don't you trust me?" he asked.

Bulma shook her head.

He shrugged. "At least you're honest," he commented as he caught up to her. "I told you I'm an animal," he added as he playfully snapped his teeth at her. She jumped back a little.

She nodded uneasily and fell into step next to the saiyan. She remained speechless for a while. Her fear soon gave way to befuddlement. Had he been teasing her when he said that? In a way that wasn't just plain malicious as usual? She smiled to herself when she chose to believe that yes, Vegeta actually had shown for the shortest time a playful side. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

They had gone halfway around the lake when Bulma started getting tired. She knew that Vegeta wasn't, but she could only go on for so long. "Let's sit down," she suggested casually, trying to hide her true motivation.

Vegeta grunted and followed her as she walked to the edge of the lake, kicking off her shoes and pulling her socks off so she could dig her toes into the sandy shore. She sat down and dangled her feet in the cool water. A feeling of relief washed through her and she moaned in contentment.

He sat down near her, cross-legged, and watched her curiously. Why did this woman never seem to have a care in the world? She drifted through the days as if nothing were ever wrong. She was so carefree it sickened him sometimes. She knew as well as he that the androids were coming in a little over two years from now, but she didn't seem to have any concern. He shook his head in disbelief. Either she was crazy or just plain stupid. Yet, he wished he could just let go like her sometimes.

So enraptured by his thoughts was he that he didn't notice her blue gaze fixed on him. 'How is he not sweating? It's hot out and he's wearing a black shirt and jeans. I'd be melting.' True, profound thoughts were absent from her mind, but she was too busy relaxing to care.

They sat in silence, enjoying the warm sunshine and the cool breeze blowing up from the lake. The lake was serene and soothing. Bulma found her mind wandering from one mundane topic to another. Vegeta found himself almost dozing off and decided to lay back in the sand and let it happen. He closed his eyes and for once the scowl lifted from his face.

Seeing motion out of the corner of her eye, Bulma turned and saw the saiyan sprawled out in the sand, head resting on his hands. She noticed the lack of tension in his features and admired his profile. She remembered back to the day when she first invited him to stay at Capsule Corp. She had called him cute and told him to live life a little, see what it has to offer. She turned back to the lake and grinned. That's what he was doing today. Just living.

And he was cute. Definitely. Actually that might be an understatement. She glanced back at his calm profile. She had never noticed how truly exotic his features were. He had the deepest black eyes, so dark she felt like she could get lost in them. His slanted eyes were overshadowed by thick black eyebrows, which added a serious harshness to his young face. His nose could have been sculpted from stone, it was so straight, perfect, its angle adding to his overall sharp features. His high cheekbones and pointed chin could have been those of a god's. And his lips… Bulma blushed. They were full, but not pouty. She bet he really _was_ a good kisser like in the dream she had so long ago when he was in space looking for Goku. Her gaze followed the curve of his prominent widow's peak, not a single hair falling into his face. He was a very handsome man. Exotic. Divine. He was undoubtedly royalty. She smiled.

She turned to face him, continuing to admire the view. His breathing was deep and slow, so she knew that he was asleep. She longed to run her hands through his thick mane. She knew how Goku's hair felt: coarse and rough, sort of featherlike. Vegeta's looked different though. She imagined its feathery texture, the thick strands soft to the touch, though stiff. They had to be to always stand upright like that. She giggled quietly. It was like black fire on his head. Like a warning to others that he was hot-headed. Laughing harder she pressed her hands to her mouth to keep silent.

He was so different than Goku. They were like two sides to the same coin. A saiyan coin. Both loved fighting, challenges, and eating. They were strong, unbelievably powerful. But Vegeta was so serious all the time. Bulma wondered if he had always been that way. He was so driven by the need for power. He was proud, arrogant, stubborn, and temperamental. Goku was the exact opposite. He was carefree, naïve, humble, good-natured. A total people person. Vegeta hated people. One was born to rule. The other was born to serve.

Bulma found that she was both scared of and attracted to Vegeta's dangerous nature. She knew he could kill her in an instant, but for some reason she had invited him to stay with her. She doubted that he was trustworthy, yet she was putting her faith in him to help defeat the androids. Sometimes she thought she was crazy for putting up with him. He hardly seemed worth the effort sometimes. But deep down she knew that he needed her to show him compassion.

_A/N: I had to rewrite part of this chapter before posting since it didn't seem to fit with the overall story very well. Funny how as I wrote this thing, it took on a life of its own and completely changed. It was originally supposed to be like three chapters of fluff, but it turned into this three year gap story that's over sixty chapters long. That's why the earlier chapters are going to seem a little slow. Just a little FYI for my wonderful readers. As always, read and review!_

_Song: "Live a Little" by Kenny Chesney_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Today is a day when many fine things will come  
Today is just a memory tomorrow  
I know that there's some bad things to come  
But I'll forget them all until tomorrow_

The sun was low on the horizon when Vegeta woke up. He immediately sat up and felt out all the ki signals around him. None were significant. He looked around him and saw nothing out of the ordinary, once he remembered where he was. He shook his head, irritated that he had woken up disoriented _again_. It was unpleasant, always waking up with a feeling of being lost.

Then he noticed the woman sitting silently by his side, not seeming to have noticed his strange behavior. She was watching the sun's rays bouncing off the waves of the lake. He cleared his throat, letting her know he was finished sleeping. Finally, she turned to him and smiled softly. "Hey, sleepy head. It's getting late, so we should probably head back to CC."

He nodded and rose to his feet, brushing the sand off his back and shaking his head violently to get it out of his hair. The urge to run her hands through his mane hit her again and she had to busy herself with putting her socks and shoes back on to get it out of her head.

She stood up and brushed herself off, too. They strolled back to the dirt path and started finishing the lap around the lake they had started that afternoon.

They walked together in silence, neither having much to say to the other. Bulma had been thinking all afternoon about how little she knew about the prince, but she was unwilling to ask any questions. She was afraid that he would retreat back into his shell. She already learned a few things about him that day anyway. She tried to stay content with that, knowing she had plenty of time in the next two years to ask as many questions as she wanted.

"Bulma! Is that you?" a male voice called from behind them. Bulma turned and grinned.

"Yamcha! What are you doing here?" she said, waiting for her boyfriend to catch up to them. It had been a couple weeks since she last saw him. He had finally gotten busy and started training hard for the androids, probably a passing phase.

Vegeta growled so low no one could really hear it, but Bulma felt a familiar shiver running along her spine. She was standing close enough to Vegeta that she could feel the vibration in his chest even if she couldn't hear it.

"Just going for a walk, you know, some light exercise after a hard day of training," Yamcha said smugly while grinning from ear to ear. That was when he noticed Bulma wasn't alone. His eyes bugged out a little. "Bulma, why are you here with _him_?" he asked, as if Vegeta couldn't hear him.

Bulma frowned and crossed her arms. She didn't like Yamcha talking about Vegeta as if he were below her. Sure, she was scared of him, but he was still human. Figuratively speaking. "We're just going for a walk, too," she replied. "Actually, we've spent the whole day together."

Vegeta turned away. He wasn't sure if he should be proud that she took his side or offended that he had to be associated with her. Not to mention, she just gave away that he hadn't been training all day. That was sure to raise some unwanted questions. And it did.

"The whole day? You mean the 'Prince of all Saiyans' wasn't too busy training?" Yamcha asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he mocked Vegeta's title.

Vegeta growled again, this time audibly. Yamcha laughed nervously and stepped back, waving his hands in defense. He should have known better than to mock the prince.

Trying to defuse the situation before it got out of control, Bulma spoke up. "Do you want to walk with us, Yamcha?" In a way, she was hoping that he would decline. Of course she missed seeing him every day, but she was having a pretty good time with Vegeta, considering who her company was.

"If that weakling sticks around then I'm going to go back to the compound right now," Vegeta snarled. He hated this human for some reason he couldn't quite identify. Maybe because he was a cocky bastard even though he was weak. Probably. He went with that conclusion.

A triumphant expression rose on Yamcha's face and Bulma looked disappointed. She didn't want to spoil her day with Vegeta. She hadn't known that he would react to Yamcha's presence that way. She rubbed her upper arm nervously and bit her lip. "Don't leave, Vegeta, I'll just spend time with Yamcha some other time," she pleaded.

Yamcha's jaw dropped. "But Bulma!"

Vegeta wanted to rub it in the weakling's face that the woman had chosen to stay with _him_. But he knew if he did that she might change her mind and give victory to the scar faced idiot. So, instead of saying anything, he wrapped his tail around Bulma's waist possessively and turned around to continue walking.

Bulma yelped a little when she felt him tug on her, so she waved apologetically to Yamcha and turned to walk with Vegeta. Yamcha watched them go, fuming silently. 'That fucking arrogant saiyan, what the hell was that about?' He turned and stormed off in the other direction.

Once the weakling was out of sight, Vegeta unwrapped his tail from around Bulma's waist and wrapped it around his own. Nothing was said between them. Bulma felt guilty about ditching her boyfriend like that, but she desperately wanted to stay with Vegeta for some reason. Why did he act that way anyhow? She shook her head slowly.

"Why do you hate him?" Bulma asked at last, feeling the need to break the awkward silence. At least, it was awkward to her.

"He's a pathetic weakling too stupid to realize it," he answered shortly.

Bulma sighed. She wondered why everything had to be about power to him. He judged everyone based on their power level rather than their character. It was infuriating sometimes, especially since she had no ki to speak of. She did have an idea that he respected her for her intelligence, though.

The sun sank below the horizon and the temperature was dropping steadily with it. Bulma shivered a little and walked faster to try and warm up. Vegeta matched her strides and glanced at her. He noticed that her normally smooth skin was bumpy. He wondered why.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked callously.

Bulma was taken aback. What in the world did he mean by that? "Huh?"

Vegeta reached out and traced his finger along her arm. She shivered again, but not from the cold. His skin felt hot against hers and she felt more goosebumps forming on her arms. Her eyes widened in realization and she almost laughed. "Oh, you mean why do I have goosebumps," she stated. He raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged. "Humans get them when they're cold or scared or something. It's not a problem."

He grunted. There was silence for a couple minutes before he spoke up again. "Which are you?"

She stopped and looked up at him, not knowing what he was asking. She wanted to ask him to clarify, but she knew he hated having to do that. She thought back to what they had just been talking about. Oh. "I'm just cold," she answered.

He nodded, accepting her answer. She turned and started walking again. She was surprised when she felt something soft and warm wrap around her waist. She could feel the warmth moving across her body and she sighed in comfort. It had gotten rather chilly out.

They walked in silence until they finally reached the gate to the park again. It seemed like a lifetime ago when they stood there before, having just escaped the policeman. Bulma chuckled when she thought about it. It was hilarious, really, she had been riding on a motorcycle with one of the most feared beings in the universe, and he had evaded the police like a juvenile delinquent.

Vegeta smirked, having a good idea of what she was laughing about. He popped the capsule open and got on the motorcycle. Bulma got her helmet out and put it on before climbing on behind him. She thought it was funny that he decided for her that he was driving again, whether or not she agreed. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and felt his tail tighten around her. She had to admit, riding with him was more fun than driving.

He took off again, not quite as fast as last time. Bulma rested her head against his shoulder and laughed in excitement as he drove them through the city. She tried to give him directions back to Capsule Corp, but he wasn't listening. She shrugged and let him take her where he wanted to go. She was curious to see what he had planned since she still basically knew nothing about him. Maybe she would get to learn more that day.

Feeling the cold, Bulma nuzzled into his back more. Sensing what was wrong, he put up a ki barrier around them to keep most of the wind off them. Bulma smiled and peered around his shoulder to see where they were going, but she still couldn't figure it out. 'Maybe he's not taking me anywhere. I know I like to just drive around sometimes with no destination.'

Unknown to Bulma, Vegeta was busy taking in his surroundings, committing them to memory. He had decided to take this opportunity to learn the layout of the city a little better so if he needed to he could get around easily without someone telling him how to get somewhere. And anyway, he was having 'fun' driving the motorcycle. He preferred flying, but this brought him a kind of amusement nonetheless.

He was fascinated by all the lights of the city at night. Sure, he had seen more impressive things on other planets, but each city had its own unique feel. This one was all business in the daytime, but it seemed like a giant party at night. It was quite the change.

One building he passed caught his attention. There was a large white rectangle above the doors that had words scrawled across it. Smaller lights were evenly placed around the perimeter of the rectangle as if to draw one's attention to it. Many humans were walking in, and there were lots of brightly colored posters lining the walls on either side of the doors.

"What is that place?" he asked over his shoulder, gesturing with his head where he meant.

Bulma looked over and grinned. "That's a movie theater," she answered. "It's where people go to see new movies on huge screens. They eat a bunch of junk food like popcorn and candy. It's fun, if you have someone to go with. A lot of people go to places like that on dates."

Vegeta slowed down as he drew closer to the place. He felt like the lights were drawing him in. He didn't know what dates were. Or popcorn or candy for that matter. But he did know what movies were, and so far he wasn't terribly impressed with them. 'Pitiful fantasy worlds that humans live in while their brains rot' he called them. But the woman said it was fun. Curiosity was once again getting the better of him as he wondered what made watching a movie so entertaining for humans.

Bulma looked at him questioningly even though he couldn't see her. He stopped at the curb in front of the doors and looked in, seeing lines of humans in front of small booths where they were getting something he couldn't see after handing over money. "What are you doing?" Bulma asked.

"We're supposed to be having fun today, right?" he asked in reply.

Bulma nodded but answered verbally when she remembered he still couldn't see her. "Yeah, I guess so." She had a pretty good idea about what he was planning now. It was definitely surprising; since when did he simply accept her word when she said something? He was going to go to the movies just because she said it was fun, even though he'd already made up his mind quite a while ago that movies were a useless waste of time. She shook her head in wonder. He was just too unpredictable for her to ever understand.

"Then let's have fun," he said. He and Bulma got off the motorcycle and capsulated it again. Vegeta put it back in his pocket and, after checking all directions to make sure there was no danger, walked towards the doors. Bulma followed right on his heels, wondering how this was going to go over. Though she wanted to believe he could fit in if he tried, she knew that he had a tendency to stand out among humans. He really didn't like following their customs.

Vegeta observed quietly for a few minutes before deciding what to do. Bulma was silent the whole time. She couldn't believe that he was here to just see a movie because she had told him that it was fun. However, she followed him when he went to stand in one of the lines to the ticket booths.

They waited in line for a couple minutes, Vegeta becoming noticeably impatient. He felt that waiting in lines was beneath him, but he was making an effort to fit in for the sake of the woman. He knew how loudly she could scream when he upset her. When he finally reached the ticket booth, he looked at the young employee expectantly.

"What movie would you like to see, sir?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

Vegeta raised his eyebrow. He had a choice? The woman hadn't told him there was more than one movie to see. "Whatever has the most violence," he told her. He was sure it was impossible to go wrong with blood and mayhem. He thought he heard Bulma groan behind him but he couldn't be sure. There was too much other noise in the place, so it could have been anything.

"How many tickets do you need, sir?" the girl asked him. Vegeta looked behind him at Bulma, who was looking quite stunned. He rolled his eyes.

"Two."

"That'll be $15.50," the girl told him. Vegeta pulled out the wallet Dr. Brief had given him and pulled out the credit card he was given.

Once he had paid, the girl at the booth handed him two tickets and told him which theater the movie was playing in. He nodded curtly and walked past the booths to the concession stand, dragging Bulma along behind him.

Vegeta shoved one ticket in her hand and looked at the menu hanging above the concession stand. Bulma saw the puzzled look on his face and decided to intervene.

"Why don't you let me get the snacks since you got us the tickets?" she asked. His perplexed expression left his face and he nodded silently. His stomach growled then, having sensed the fact that it would soon be getting fed. Bulma smirked at him. "Guess I'm going to have to get a lot, huh?" she asked and gently elbowed Vegeta in the ribs.

When she turned away to go order food he rubbed his rib gently, somewhat irritated that she had of course hit the broken rib that was trying to heal. He shook his head and crossed his arms as he waited for the woman to finish ordering. He smirked when he saw the disbelief etched on the acne-ridden face of the boy behind the counter. As usual, the human was in utter disbelief that anyone could eat so much. He thought it was amusing how pathetic human appetites were in comparison to his own. Soon the young employee started piling food onto the counter after Bulma paid.

Vegeta came up behind Bulma and eyed the food hungrily. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that it smelled good and he was getting hungrier by the second. His stomach growled loudly again to make sure no one had forgotten its predicament.

"Here, Vegeta, help carry this, I can't get it all," Bulma said as she started pushing food into his arms. He grunted in irritation but allowed her to pile the food so high he could hardly see over it. He was quite an expert at balancing a ridiculous amount of food, after all.

Finally, Bulma grabbed their drinks and led him to the theater that the movie was playing in. She wasn't especially looking forward to what Vegeta had chosen to see because she didn't much like violent movies, but she decided she wasn't going to ruin the experience for him. She was the one that told him it would be fun, so she was determined to make it as fun as possible, if for no other reason than to save face. She wouldn't want him thinking her foolish for liking something he thought was completely stupid.

She walked down the dark aisle at the side of the theater and spotted two perfectly placed seats near the middle. She stepped into the row and awkwardly walked sideways, crawling over people when necessary, before plopping down in one of the seats. Vegeta somehow managed to follow her without dropping or spilling any of the food or blasting anyone who was sitting in the way. She sighed in relief and took some of the food from him so he could sit down comfortably.

"Do they have to make it so damn hard to get to a seat?" he asked in annoyance. Several heads turned to glare at him, but he didn't see them.

Bulma giggled quietly. "Yes, Vegeta, it's part of the theater experience," she whispered, trying to give him the hint to be quiet.

"Well next time I'll forgo the experience and blast anyone in the way into the next dimension," he growled. Several heads turned again and shushed him, but he paid them no mind.

"Vegeta, you need to be quiet, especially when the movie starts. It upsets people when you talk through the movie," she whispered again.

He grunted in reply and started eating the popcorn. The salty, buttery snack was soon devoured and he found himself craving more. Bulma smiled when she saw how quickly it disappeared. She handed him a package of candy and sipped her drink, only half paying attention to the previews.

She heard an irritating crackling sound next to her and turned to see what it was. She nearly laughed out loud when she saw the saiyan prince struggling with the candy package. He couldn't get it to open and it was obvious he was quickly getting frustrated with it. The harder he tried to get it open, the more annoying noise it made until everyone in their general vicinity was shooting him angry glares. How it was possible for one of the strongest beings in the universe to have difficulty opening a candy package was beyond her.

He growled at the offending package and decided to rip it open with his teeth. Much to his irritation and Bulma's embarrassment, the package ripped open and candy flew out in every direction from the force. He huffed angrily and ate what little candy was left at the bottom, forgetting his anger when the sugary sweetness melted on his tongue.

Bulma sighed in relief and turned back to the screen, which was still playing previews. She saw Vegeta making quick work of the rest of the candy, not having any more problems getting the packages open. She considered trying to steal a piece but figured it would be safer not to, knowing how defensive saiyans got over their food. Instead, she slowly sipped her drink. She was starting to feel a little hungry herself, but she could wait to eat until after the movie.

Finally, the screen darkened as the movie started. Vegeta turned his attention to the screen when the myriad hushed voices in the theater stopped suddenly. Different names were appearing periodically on the black screen. He wondered what their significance was. "What are these names for?" he asked a little too loudly.

Bulma softly smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, but answered, "Those are the names of the actors in the movie." She wondered if the saiyan, who had been all over the universe and visited planets with incredible technology and advanced civilizations, had really never seen a movie before. It seemed absurd, but considering his original opinion on movies, he probably hadn't gone out of his way to ever watch one.

Vegeta nodded in understanding and turned to the screen again. Suddenly, a flash of light, a bloodcurdling scream, and a spatter of blood. Vegeta grunted. Pathetic effects. Everyone knew blood didn't look like that when it was fresh.

As the movie progressed, Bulma tried to hide her face in her hands so she wouldn't have to watch. She really hated gory movies, and this one was full of it. Finally, she turned to her side and buried her face in Vegeta's shoulder. He looked down at her in confusion, but shrugged and turned back to the movie.

Every time someone died, he would laugh. The effects were just so _bad_. And the torture scenes? That was child's play to him. He had endured far worse every day for almost thirty years. So he snickered when someone would cry out in pain and laughed out loud when someone was killed. Finally, halfway through the movie, a man behind Vegeta had had enough.

"Hey, you with the pointy hair! Why don't you shut up so the rest of us can enjoy the movie?"

Vegeta turned and glared at the man, who quickly shut up and tried to sink into the seat. He turned back to the screen and continued laughing through the rest of the movie. Bulma kept her head buried in his shoulder and flinched whenever there was a scream or squishy sound that probably meant more gore and blood. She hoped his laughing meant he was having a good time, even if it was only because he thought the movie was poorly made, because she certainly wasn't having a good time. She prayed the movie would end soon and end her misery.

After what seemed like an eternity to Bulma, the movie ended and the dim lights came back on so people could find their way out. She stood up and grabbed her drink, which was still unfinished, and motioned for Vegeta to lead the way out. He stood and made the awkward trip back across the seats, his feet sticking in unidentifiable spots of goo on the floor. Bulma followed him and was more than relieved when they finally got out of the theater.

"Hey, 'Geta, I need to use the ladies room. Hold on a minute," she said and practically ran into the restroom. He watched her go, irritated that she had once again used that nickname.

After a few minutes, Bulma emerged from the restroom and found Vegeta waiting for her near the exit. "Ready to go?" she asked.

He nodded and pushed the door open, leading the way out. Vegeta looked at the sky when they got outside again, but all he could see was red haze from the light pollution of the city. He frowned and shook his head, frustrated once again with his inability to see the stars when he was in the city. He popped the capsule open and got on the motorcycle and waited until he felt Bulma's slender arms wrapped around his waist. He wrapped his tail around her again, put up his ki barrier, and drove off.

It was getting late and he was still hungry, so he decided that he had explored enough that night. "How do we get back to the compound?" he asked over his shoulder.

Bulma guided him home and was almost sad when they pulled up in front of the yellow domed building. She felt like she had just spent an entire day with Vegeta as his _friend_. Or at least a friendly acquaintance. She still feared him, and he probably still held her in contempt for one reason or another, but they had managed to spend time together all day without biting each other's heads off. Well, not counting what happened at the store, but even that hadn't been too bad. That was an impressive feat in and of itself.

Once they came to a stop, Bulma pulled her helmet off and slid off the back of the motorcycle. Vegeta got off and capsulated it and finally handed it back to Bulma. She took it and walked up the front door before she turned around and looked Vegeta in the eyes.

"You know, I really had a good time today," she told him, suddenly feeling very shy.

"Hn."

"And I hope you did too, even if you were stuck with me the whole time," she smiled and winked at him.

Bulma went in the door and Vegeta followed, closing it behind him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed some of the leftovers from dinner out of the refrigerator and threw them in the microwave. It was about the only appliance he bothered learning how to use. Cooking was not his forte.

He heard soft footsteps ascending the stairs and knew that the woman was heading for her room. It was getting pretty late. He ate quickly and dumped his dirty dishes in the sink for the blonde woman to wash the next morning. He wasn't very tired since he had slept most of the afternoon.

Knowing he still couldn't train, he wandered back to the double doors and pushed them open. It was dark inside, but he could see fine. He walked into the small forest and found his usual clearing. He sat down and calmed his mind to meditate for a few hours. If he couldn't train his body, then he could use his time training his mind instead. Mental discipline was just as important to a warrior as strong muscles. In some ways, it was more important. That's what he had to remind himself as he slipped into his meditative state.

Bulma couldn't go to sleep despite being horribly tired. She'd had a long day and wanted to rest, but she couldn't make her mind stop working in overdrive. Memories of her day with Vegeta kept running through her mind. Instead of the usual negative feelings she associated with the arrogant saiyan, she only felt happiness bubbling through her. She actually did have a lot of fun with him, once they got done shopping anyway. Who knew spending time with him could actually be enjoyable?

She was also pleased that he'd behaved relatively well. Better than she thought he would, as a matter of fact. He managed to not blast anyone into the next dimension, only lost his temper once or twice, and followed _most_ social norms. True, he did take his shirt off in the middle of an upscale department store, complained a little too loudly sometimes, ate a ridiculous amount of food at a buffet, broke the law when he was driving, and laughed during a horror movie, but was any of that so bad? At the time she'd thought it was, but looking back on it only a few hours later she couldn't help but laugh at his antics. She never would have guessed he had a playful bone in his body, yet he showed a sense of humor several times. And not just through his typical snarky sarcasm. 'He may be the Prince of all Saiyans,' she mused, 'but he's the king of surprises.'

When she was still wide awake after trying to sleep for an hour, she rolled out of bed and yawned. She was tired but not sleepy. She stood up and shuffled across her room and pulled a robe on over her pajamas before going downstairs. If she couldn't sleep, she could at least get something done.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten dinner. She was hungry before she and Vegeta watched that movie, but just the sounds in it were enough to make her lose her appetite, so she hadn't bothered eating before going to bed. With a sigh, she walked to the kitchen to get something to eat. It wasn't as if she was trying to sleep anymore anyway.

Bulma wasn't surprised to find there were no leftovers in the refrigerator, but there was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Of course Vegeta would have gone and eaten everything that was already cooked. She grumbled under her breath as she pulled the egg carton out, figuring it wouldn't be too hard to make herself a scrambled egg. It would be filling enough to last her until morning. When she finished eating, she was still wide awake and knew sleep was out of the question.

She went down to her lab to work on one of her projects, but she found it was harder to concentrate than she thought it would be. She just wasn't interested in working on it. She tossed her wrench down on the table and leaned against it with arms crossed over her chest. She still wanted to build something. Working in her lab was the best way to tire herself out enough to be able to get to sleep before it got _too_ late. She sighed and started pacing, trying to think of something else to do. As much as she tried to think of other things, her thoughts kept straying back to the saiyan prince.

He'd actually been…pleasant. She smiled and sat down at her desk to start drawing plans for a new machine. It was going to be far better than any she'd ever built before. And judging by her level of excitement, she wouldn't go back to bed until it was completed.

_A/N: Hm… now what might she be up to now?_

_I know this chapter is quite a bit shorter than the last one, but not all of them can be that long! I'm almost tempted to put up the next chapter right away so I can hurry up and get to chapter 6. It's one of my absolute favorites. So, let's make a deal. You review, and I update faster. Because I'm sort of addicted to reviews. I'm not ashamed._

_Oh, and don't expect romance too soon. I'm not into rushing things. Vegeta's got to learn to trust first. Besides, Yamcha's still in the picture. Heh. :)_

_Song: "Moons and Horror Shows" by The Zutons_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_You're as cold as ice  
You're willing to sacrifice our love  
You never take advice  
Someday you'll pay the price, I know_

Vegeta woke the next morning to the sound of someone calling his name. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, groaning softly as his body protested.

"Vegeta, I know you're in here. Come out so I can check to see how you're healing," a female voice rang through the trees.

He yawned and stretched, lazily getting to his feet. Even tired his movements were fluid and graceful, like that of a cat. His hand moved to his side and he tentatively prodded it to see if there was still a sharp pain where his rib had been broken. There was only a dull pain, which meant that it was mostly healed.

"Vegeta! Get out here now!"

He yawned again and sat back down, leaning against the trunk of one of the trees. He didn't feel like coming when called like a servant. "You come in _here_," he yelled back. He heard an annoyed huff and smirked.

He drew one knee up to his chest and rested his arm on it. His other arm hung loosely by his side. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It would probably take her a while to find his exact location. Until then, he would relax a little.

There were a few moments of silence. Then, "Vegeta, please come out here. I don't know what the animals would do to me if I went in there," the woman whined.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "They won't hurt you, Woman." He said it with confidence, hoping she would trust him. He heard a sigh of resignation and soon after a level of noise almost equal that of Goku's started. He waited patiently for her to find him, deciding not to give her any hints. He closed his eyes again and rested his chin on his chest.

A while later, something tripped over his leg and fell face first into the clearing. "Yeep!" There was a soft thud and a lot of irritated grumbling. Vegeta finally opened his eyes and had to stifle a laugh as he watched the blue-haired woman rising to her hands and knees and looking around for him. Finally, she looked behind her and after a momentary look of shock, she glared at him and sat back on her feet, hands planted on her hips.

"You jerk! You make me come in here and then trip me!"

"Woman, it is not my fault you do not watch where you are going," he replied with a sniff.

Bulma blushed and turned away so that he couldn't see it. She exhaled through clenched teeth and faced him again. "Whatever, take off your shirt so I can see how you're healing."

Vegeta smirked before teasing her. "You're just taking advantage of the fact that I'm injured so you can get my clothes off."

She blushed again but this time held his gaze. "Get over yourself, you jerk. Just do it so I can get this over with," she snapped, missing the fact that he was playing with her.

Not one to give up, he tried to provoke her again. "Why don't you make me, Woman?"

"Oh for the love of—would you stop acting so childish, Vegeta?"

Instead of answering, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, daring her to try and make him take off his shirt. He knew that she was afraid of him, but he also knew that she was not one to back down from a challenge. And for some reason, he was in a playful mood and he wanted her to play along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to be catching on. So he waited.

Finally, Bulma had had enough. She crawled over to him on her hands and knees and sat right on his lap facing him. "If that's the way you're going to be, then fine," she growled as she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled up. She hadn't planned on his not lifting his arms though, so she really had no idea what to do after she pulled his shirt up over his chest.

"Lift your arms," she ordered him. He just looked at her, mocking her with his eyes. She glared at him, but she knew he wouldn't cooperate. So, she raised his left arm and pulled it out of the sleeve of his t-shirt. She did the same to his other arm and finally pulled it over his head. Quite pleased with herself, she grinned at him triumphantly and started pulling the old bandages off his chest. She wasn't surprised to see that there was no sign that his body had ever been littered with cuts and burns.

"You look good on this side," she told him, "so turn around so I can check your back."

Both eyebrows raised this time. "Have you forgotten you're sitting on my lap?" he asked. He had a good point. She quickly crawled off him and waited for him to turn around. He just looked at her.

"Well turn around!" she said again. He made no move to follow her command.

Sighing exasperatedly, she grabbed him around the waist and tried to twist him around, but only succeeded in falling over backwards and pulling him on top of her. "Damnit Vegeta, get off. You weight, like, 500 pounds." So that was an exaggeration, but he was extremely heavy. Saiyan muscle is extremely dense, so it weighs much more than human muscle. Since he was nothing _but_ muscle, he weighed an awful lot for his size.

Raising himself up on his elbows, Vegeta looked down at her innocently. Or as innocently as he could look. She had to laugh at his attempt. "What so funny, Woman?" he asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Your face," she answered through gasps for air.

"I'm hurt," he said dryly.

Bulma panted for a minute before turning her attention back to the prince. He was such an enigma. She shook her head a couple times and then tried again, "Ok, now let me see your back."

He smirked. She frowned. "If you can catch me."

"What?" But he was already gone somewhere in the forest. "Vegeta, get back here right now!"

She heard a muffled snicker. Oh, he was going to get it when she finally found him! She looked up in the trees but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She growled in anger and stomped back through the trees. If she had just looked up she would have seen him moving above her, but she didn't.

Bulma heard a slight noise overhead and turned to face the ceiling, but she saw nothing. She clenched her fists angrily and spun on her heel and ran smack into a hard chest. She nearly fell backwards from the impact, but something furry snaked around her waist and held her up.

Vegeta cocked his head to the side and her fury melted when she saw the amusement in his eyes. Judging by the way the corners of his lips were twitching, he was trying his hardest to resist smiling. The unwarranted thought that she had never seen him _really _smile crossed her mind before she could stop it. Was he really just playing with her? Not being an ass like usual? She grabbed his arms before he could get away again and raised an eyebrow at him.

"There, I caught you. Now would you stop fooling around and let me see your back?"

"Correction: I caught you first," he responded smugly.

"Fine, whatever, now turn around," she said, growing serious again. He shrugged and turned around so she could finish her checkup. She pulled the bandages off, and as expected, there were no visible wounds, not even the smallest scars to give away the fact that there had been anything wrong the day before. Finally, it was time to address the worst injury he had had. "How's your rib?" she asked.

"It's fine," was his short reply.

Unsure of whether or not to believe him, she shrugged and accepted his answer. Even if it wasn't completely healed, he could probably resume training today. Having a day off must have done his body some good. He healed faster than normal.

"Then I guess you'll go back to training today?" she asked hesitantly.

He turned around to face her again. He cocked his head again, which made her wonder what he was thinking about. After a minute he shrugged one shoulder and grunted. "Maybe."

She was floored. "Maybe?"

"Maybe," he said again. "Is there anything better to do?" he asked in a way that made her wonder if he was challenging her.

Bulma shrugged and said nonchalantly, "Well, we could have some fun again."

"Fun?" This time he was teasing her.

She smiled. "Yeah, you know that thing where you go out and do something entertaining."

"Oh, that," he said and took a step closer to her. He was definitely getting in her personal space now. She tried to back away but his tail held her in place. Suddenly he buried his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, filing her scent away in his memory. "I don't smell fear on you today."

"What would I be afraid of?" she asked, puzzled.

"Me," he said softly and inhaled again. Yes, only yesterday he could smell fear permeating her natural scent when he was close to her. Was she not afraid of him anymore?

Vegeta stepped back and looked at her again, seeking answers as to why she wouldn't be afraid of him anymore. He searched her bottomless blue eyes but found nothing. There was no fear, but there wasn't trust either.

"Maybe you haven't done anything to frighten me today," she said quietly. Let's keep it that way, she silently added.

He accepted that answer. She was still afraid of him, but not constantly. It made sense. One would have to be foolish to not fear him if they knew what he was capable of. 'Even that fool Kakarrot fears me a little because he knows I could destroy this pathetic planet without even trying,' he thought.

"Very well, let's go then." He turned and walked through the forest silently, and she followed noisily behind. Bulma, keeping an eye on his back to find her way out quickly, was surprised to find that she had never noticed the various scars covering his back. The slightly pale skin stood out against the rest of his bronzed skin. She wondered where they all came from, but figured it might be better not to know. He wasn't a fairytale prince with a history of slaying dragons and evil witches to save damsels in distress. He was a battle-hardened warrior and victim of years of abuse. Each story his scars had to tell would surely be enough to tear her apart mentally.

Apparently Vegeta had been doing some thinking on the way through the forest too. Once he got to the doors that led out of the garden, he turned to Bulma and crossed his arms. "I will train today, but only until lunch. After that, we will have fun," he told her in a tone that told her there was no point in arguing. Not that she would anyway. She was thrilled that he was giving her half a day to do something with him that didn't involve cooking, cleaning, or repairing the gravity chamber.

"Deal," she said. "By the way, Mom made you breakfast so you'd better go get it before it gets cold."

Vegeta nodded and turned to leave. Bulma's eyes once more roamed over the scars on his back before he disappeared around the corner on his way to the kitchen.

Bulma glanced around the garden and smiled. He obviously spent the whole night there since he was in the same clothes he wore yesterday. 'He really loves it in here. I guess it's the closest thing to nature he can find at CC. I should try to get him out more often, it might even help his training by giving his body time to rest and recover.'

She left the garden and went to her lab to work through the morning. She had been working on some prototypes for new bots Vegeta could use in his training regime. 'Why does everything revolve around that arrogant saiyan?' she asked herself, more amused than irritated. Once in her lab she pulled on her lab coat, purely for formality's sake, and sat down at her desk to finish the blueprints.

After Vegeta finished eating, he went to his room and changed into his training shorts, grabbed a towel and hung it around his neck, and went outside to the gravity chamber. He felt better than he had in weeks, almost giddy with the energy bubbling through his veins. Since he only had four hours before lunch, he would have to work hard. He wasn't sure why he had decided to spend half a day with the woman again doing nothing productive, but for some reason he was not terribly upset with his decision. In fact, he was looking forward to it. 'Maybe my body needs the rest,' he admitted reluctantly, 'but I won't complain if it helps my power grow.'

Three hours passed and Bulma was finished with the blueprints and was now tinkering around at her work table. It wasn't easy making bots that could withstand the power of a saiyan, so she had to build them slowly and carefully, taking as many precautions as possible. She knew from experience that if she threw them together haphazardly, it could have dire consequences for the saiyan prince. She shuddered when she remembered having to perform a small operation to remove the shards of metal that acted as shrapnel from his body when one of her bots exploded during his training. He hadn't been too happy about that, needless to say.

Vegeta was quite pleased with his training that morning. Instead of having to lower the gravity to make up for lost time as he had feared, he was able to turn it up an additional 50Gs. Even for him that wasn't a small jump. His grueling workout continued until even his most difficult kata became fluid, graceful, easy. He stopped to take a break and looked at the clock on the gravity console. He still had an hour before lunch. Plenty of time to keep training. He gulped down a bottle of water and wiped the sweat from his face and neck with his towel. 'Time to get back to work,' he told himself.

Another half hour passed and Vegeta was in the midst of his rigorous training, having turned the gravity up another 10Gs since his break. He was now at 260x Earth's gravity. At this rate, he would reach super saiyan in no time. Vegeta pushed his ki as high as it would go and threw a ki ball at one of the bots, which deflected it, making it ricochet around the chamber. Vegeta dodged it easily, moving with finesse despite his body being heavily weighed down. He had been doing this for ten minutes when he felt a familiar ki approaching the compound. He was so distracted by it that the ki ball hit him right in the chest, but it barely fazed him.

'What the hell does the weakling want here?' he growled mentally. He sensed it moving into the compound and down to the woman's lab. He growled for real this time.

Bulma heard a knock on the door of her lab and she looked up from where she was working. "Come in," she called. The door opened and a man in khaki pants and a light blue button down shirt came strolling down the stairs. She smiled and ran over to hug him.

"Yamcha, what are you doing here?" she asked, kissing his cheek.

"Hey, babe, just came by to see what you're up to today," he held her close and smiled down at her.

She put her hands on his chest and grinned at him. "I was just working on some training bots for Vegeta," she said and gestured with her head toward the table covered in various unidentifiable mechanical parts. "I'm working 'til lunch then we're going out on the town."

We are? Who was we? Yamcha hoped she meant him spending time with her. "We?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yeah, me and Vegeta."

His eyes widened in shock. No, betrayal. And confusion. Ok, he didn't know what to feel. His girlfriend was spending another day with that, that murderer! _His_ murderer! Had she forgotten that Vegeta was responsible for his death? He frowned.

"His royal highness is taking another day off?" he snarled, "I thought I heard the gravity chamber running. Isn't he training today?"

Bulma saw the hurt in her boyfriend's eyes, but couldn't understand why it was there. So, she decided to ignore it for the time being. "He's training this morning while I work and after lunch we're going to go out and have some fun," she told him.

"Oh. Well, I guess you don't want to spend any time with me anymore then," he said, hoping to guilt her into ditching Vegeta.

Just then the lab door flew open and a very irate saiyan jumped over the rail and landed behind Bulma. "What are you doing here, Weakling?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous.

Yamcha, surprisingly, stood his ground and glared angrily at the intruder. "I'm talking to my _girlfriend_ you stupid monkey. Go back to training, Kami knows you need it," he nearly shouted.

Vegeta scoffed. "_I_ need training? You're weaker than you were before that kid warned us about the androids. So I suggest you go back to whatever little hellhole you crawled out of."

Yamcha sneered, but inside he was really afraid that what Vegeta had said was true. He knew he had been slacking off on his training, but was he actually weaker? It was entirely possible that Vegeta was just trying to get under his skin, but damn if he didn't know how to do it. Then he noticed that Vegeta had pulled Bulma back and was standing between her and him. 'What the hell does he think he's doing?' he wondered.

Vegeta bared his teeth at the human. "Get. Out."

Bulma put her hand on Vegeta's arm to calm him down, but he shook it off. "Please, Vegeta, stop. He's not doing anything wrong," she pleaded, afraid of what he might do to her boyfriend. Vegeta sniffed the air. There it was again. Fear.

Vegeta looked over his shoulder at her, and she thought she could see some hurt in his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as obvious as it had been with Yamcha. "Do not be afraid, Woman, I will not hurt him. Much." She wasn't very comforted by his words.

Finally, Yamcha's voice decided to work again and he shouted angrily, "You can't tell me to leave, Vegeta. If you hadn't noticed, you're just a guest here. Only Kami knows why."

The situation was spiraling out of control, that much was obvious. Bulma took a deep breath and tried to take control of it. "Vegeta, go finish training. Lunch will be ready soon. Yamcha, go upstairs and I'll talk to you when I'm done working on these bots."

Both men stared at her for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to bend to her will. It was Yamcha who gave in first and nodded sadly before going up the stairs to wait for Bulma. She went back to her work table, ignoring the prince who was still standing in her lab. She really didn't feel like dealing with his attitude at that moment. Another minute passed before he grunted and turned to leave. He could still get a solid fifteen minutes of training in before lunch.

Back in the gravity chamber, Vegeta quickly completed several sets of one-handed push-ups and sit-ups. By the time he was done, it was time for lunch. He toweled himself off and turned the gravity back to normal. He could still sense the weakling's ki in the compound, but he tried to ignore it. He walked into the kitchen and sat down in his usual seat.

Mrs. Brief was there, humming to herself as she put the finishing touches on the meal she had prepared for the sweet young man. As she started placing platters of food on the table, Bulma and Yamcha walked into the kitchen and sat down. Neither looked very happy, but Vegeta didn't care so long as they weren't screaming at each other while he was eating. He started piling food onto his plate and ate silently while the others merely picked at their meals.

It wasn't long before the silence became too much for Mrs. Brief to bear. She giggled and said, "Oh, it's so nice to have so many handsome young men at the table." She smiled wider and turned to Bulma, as if looking for affirmation of her statement.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Sure, Mom."

Yamcha smiled weakly and turned back to his still uneaten food. Vegeta made no acknowledgement that Mrs. Brief had even said anything as he kept eating. For once, he finished before the others, mainly because they hadn't really been eating at all. He left the kitchen and went to his room to shower and change. No foolish human was going to keep him from his plans.

Twenty minutes later he was dressed in a pair of black jogging pants with white stripes down the side of the legs and a dark red t-shirt with the CC logo in white on the left breast. He wondered if that blasted logo was on everything they gave him. He shrugged and went downstairs.

"Woman, let's go," he shouted when he reached the front door. That was when he noticed two voices screaming at each other upstairs. He could sense both the woman and the weakling in her room. Growling, he went back upstairs.

"Bulma, you can't go with him!" Yamcha screamed, raising his hands in exasperation.

"Don't tell me what I can do,_ Yamcha_," she screamed back. "I made a deal with him and I am going to spend the afternoon with him. Get over it!"

"But he's dangerous, you don't know what he might do to you," he reasoned.

Bulma yelled in frustration and jabbed her finger into her boyfriend's chest. "Look, you don't trust him and neither do I, but maybe he _needs_ this. Maybe I need this! You haven't exactly been around much, you know."

"Why do you think I'm here now? I want to take you out!"

"Well, it's too late, I've already got plans for today!"

Both screamed incoherently and turned away so their backs were to each other. Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and Yamcha clenched his fists at his sides. This was how Vegeta found them when he practically knocked the door off its hinges. The lovers jumped in surprise and looked at him, wide-eyed.

Vegeta scowled and crossed his arms as Bulma did a minute ago. "Woman, let's go."

"Fine, Vegeta, I'll be down in a minute. Go wait downstairs. I just need to…" she turned toward Yamcha, who was busy glaring at the saiyan.

"Take out the trash?" Vegeta finished her statement for her. He turned and left before either of them could respond.

When he was gone, Yamcha turned to his girlfriend. "Are you going to let him talk about me like that?"

"This time, yes. You _did_ call him a monkey earlier," she reminded him accusingly. He looked at her disbelievingly. So now he couldn't even call the monster in her house what he was. A big, stupid monkey that liked to kill people and destroy things. He frowned at her.

"Fine, I guess I have nothing else to say," he muttered angrily and marched out.

'Good riddance,' she thought before she could stop herself. Yamcha could be so immature sometimes, it just grated on her nerves. She was starting to see why Vegeta was always so irate when he was around. Bulma went to her closet to get changed before going out with Vegeta. Her work clothes were greasy and rumpled. She chose army green Bermuda shorts, a yellow tank top, and green sandals.

Downstairs, Vegeta was sitting on the couch in the living room with his arms and legs crossed. He scowled at the black screen of the television in front of him as he waited. He heard the weakling stomp down the stairs and slam the front door behind him. Vegeta smirked.

A few minutes later, softer footsteps came down the stairs. He rose from the couch and walked into the hall where he found her waiting by the door. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail and she turned when she heard him drawing closer. "Ready to go, Prince?" she smiled.

He nodded. "It's about time you refer to me respectfully," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, all hail the mighty Prince of all Saiyans, Vegeta, blah, blah," she said sarcastically, waving her hands around in mock enthusiasm.

"Next time you announce my presence, servant woman, make sure there's someone to hear it," he quipped before walking out the door. She rolled her eyes and followed him, smiling.

Without hesitation, Bulma handed the capsule to Vegeta. He smirked and threw it on the ground, but looked confused when he saw a different motorcycle than the one they used the previous day. This one was slightly larger and looked newer. It was navy blue and chrome, and there was a strange symbol painted in gold on the side. "What is this, Woman?" he asked, sounding almost afraid.

Bulma's smile broadened as she pulled a white helmet on. "I built it for you last night," she said. She watched as he ran his hand over the gold symbol, waiting for his response.

"The royal crest of the House of Vegeta."

She nodded, hardly able to contain her happiness. "I saw you draw it one time, and I remembered it. Since I built this just for you, I figured it should have your symbol on it."

"Woman…" he trailed off. He was feeling some emotions he had rarely experienced. He didn't know what to make of them. He swallowed hard and turned to face her.

"I know, Vegeta."

He nodded, knowing that she understood what he could not say. He was confused as to why this strange woman who still feared him would go out her way to do something like this for him. He didn't need it, had never asked for it, she had just done it for… what? Because she wanted to? He didn't really deserve it. Yet she had done it. Just because.

_A/N: Surprise! Two updates in one day. I just couldn't wait. Well, that was a nice gift, wasn't it? Shrug. Bulma's going to teach him how to feel emotions one way or another. Looks like Bulma and Vegeta have another fun-filled day ahead of them. What sorts of things might his curiosity get him into this time? You'll just have to wait and see. I really, _really_ love the next chapter._

_I hope Vegeta hasn't gotten too OOC. It's hard to keep him perfectly canon because in DBZ he's rarely ever shown as anything other than angry, irritable, arrogant, stubborn, and self-centered. While I love his character, I think there's more to him than that that must have happened "behind the scenes." Why else would Bulma have ever fallen in love with him?_

_And review, por favor! I'm not kidding when I say I'm addicted. It's the highlight of my day when I get a new review. I don't even care if you're telling me you hate my story and think it's the stupidest thing ever written. I want to know your opinion. Please?_

_Song: "Cold as Ice" by Foreigner_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_You're so consumed with how much you get  
You waste your time with hate and regret  
You're broken  
When your heart's not open_

Shaking his head, Vegeta climbed onto his motorcycle and revved the engine. He could tell that it had more power than the one he drove yesterday. His tongue flicked over his canine. "Hang on," he said and put his tail protectively around Bulma's waist as he hit the accelerator. They were gone in a flash.

Bulma held onto his waist tightly and leaned her head against his shoulder, laughing at his wild driving. She noticed that even though they were traveling at insane speeds, his hair was still mostly upright. 'I have got to come up with an excuse to touch his hair,' she thought.

When they stopped at a stoplight, Vegeta asked her, "So where are we going, Woman?"

She hadn't even thought of that. She was so eager to go out and have fun that she forgot to think of any place to go. "Uh…what kind of things do you like to do?" she asked, feeling like she was repeating a question she'd never get an answer to.

The light turned green before he answered. They sped off down the street, still having no particular destination in mind. As they accelerated, Bulma pressed herself against his back. She was surprised – but pleased – that he didn't seem to mind the contact. In all honestly, he rather enjoyed the closeness. It had been far too long since someone had been willing to place themselves in such danger. It aroused some more emotions he had not experienced before. At least not that he could remember. They weren't entirely unpleasant despite their alien nature.

At the next stoplight, he turned to speak over his shoulder again. "So any ideas?"

"Not yet," she answered truthfully.

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," he said tauntingly, knowing that would strike a nerve.

Bulma's face flushed in indignation. "Hey, you jerk, you're not exactly helping me out here. You never answered my question." After she finished her short tirade, she was sure she saw a hint of amusement in his onyx eyes again. The color in her face deepened.

He shrugged in response and turned around to face the road again. "What was that place you were babbling about yesterday?"

"Huh?"

She didn't receive an answer as the light turned green and they flew down the road again, still undecided about how to spend the afternoon. She was wracking her brain to think of what he was talking about, but it wouldn't come to her. They flew past a small boutique that had mannequins modeling swimsuits in the front window. At first Bulma thought nothing of it, but then like a dam breaking loose she remembered what Vegeta must have been referring to.

"You mean the beach?" she shouted above the wind.

Vegeta shrugged. He hadn't been paying much attention to what she said. He just remembered that she said something about there being a fun place to go. His curiosity was getting the better of him, it seemed, as he desired to do the things she had listed off when trying to come up with something for him to do.

'He probably doesn't have any swim trunks,' she thought. 'Even if he does, they're back at CC. So is my bikini that I wanted to wear. Oh well, we can just buy some before going to the beach.' Mind made up, she waited for another stop before she revealed her plan to him.

They came to another stoplight a few minutes later. "What is the beach?" he asked.

"It's by the ocean, lots of sand and sun. Surely you've been to one on another planet."

"Hn."

"There's usually a lot of people there, but they leave you alone for the most part. But if we go there we need to go shopping first to get swimsuits and beach towels."

He couldn't ignore the excitement in her voice. The idea of being around a lot of humans was not very appealing, but he could tell that she would have lots of fun at the 'beach.' So, maybe it would be worth the trouble. If he totally hated it then he could just leave. No problem.

"Fine. Where do we find these things?"

Bulma thought about that for a minute. She didn't want to take him back to a mall anytime soon. It had been quite a traumatic experience for him. Figuring a smaller store would be ideal, she thought of one of her favorite shops that was located near her favorite part of the beach where there weren't too many tourists. "Keep going straight on this street until I tell you to turn," she said.

He nodded and when the light changed they were off. Bulma looked around his shoulder so she could direct him before he passed their turn. After a couple miles she told him to turn right down a small side street. Vegeta flew around the corner, nearly crashing into several cars before turning up the speed again.

Bulma released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and giggled. His driving was crazier than hers. He chuckled when he felt her hot breath on the back of his neck and the slight loosening of her grip around his waist. So he had meant to scare her a little. Big deal.

They stayed on the narrow street for several miles until the business district of the city was well behind them and they were surrounded by smaller shops, restaurants, and bars. There was a salty scent in the air and the people walking around were wearing skimpy clothing that showed off their dark tanned skin. They were definitely nearing the beach.

"It's going to be on the left just a little ways ahead, so you should slow down," Bulma directed the saiyan.

Their speed dropped and Bulma kept her eyes open for the store she was looking for. It was easy to miss since it was so small, but it was by far the best. "There it is!" she yelled when they came closer.

Vegeta saw where she was pointing and stopped his motorcycle across the street from it. They climbed off and he capsulated it before they walked across the street and into the little shop. It was slightly cramped inside with displays all over the small area, but the cheerful atmosphere made up for it. Light rock music was playing and there were only a couple other customers browsing around.

"Ok, first let's find you some trunks," Bulma said and led the way over to a rack with what looked like regular shorts. He raised his eyebrow at her. "They're for swimming. Guys wear them." She flipped through the trunks for several minutes before finding something that she figured would suit Vegeta's taste. They were simple. Navy blue with a white waistband and stripes down the legs. And in his size to boot.

"Try these on," she said as she handed them to him. He didn't move. "Are you really going to refuse to use a fitting room again?"

He scoffed and sneered in contempt as he looked at the small room. His tail twitched behind him as he snatched the trunks out of her hand. "If they're the same size as the pants I got yesterday then there is no reason to believe they won't fit adequately."

"Fine. I'm going to go try some things on, so just wait here for me. I'll try not to take too long," she winked at him and hurried off to the fitting rooms.

"Try?" he asked himself when she was gone. He sighed and figured he would wander around and see what else this store offered while he was waiting for her.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Bulma came out of her fitting room carrying only one item, a smug look on her face. She knew when she looked good, and damn she looked good in this. She was so happy with her choice that she had even let her mind drift to thoughts about how Vegeta would react when he saw her wearing this.

She found him standing in front of a table covered with brightly colored towels. He probably didn't know what they were for, but he was looking at them anyway. She came up next to him. "So you found the beach towels, good. We'll need to get a couple. Which one do you want?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes as if seriously contemplating her question. He ran his hand over several different towels. They all had the same texture, so that didn't help him choose. He decided he didn't like the flowery designs. He didn't care if they were Hawaiian or otherwise. The bright yellows and oranges started to hurt his eyes after looking at them for a while, so he decided against them. The tip of his tail started to twitch a little in agitation. Why was he making this into such a big decision?

Bulma had been watching him and was holding back her laughter, but when she saw how aggravated he was getting, she had to turn away. She didn't want to patronize him and make him change his mind about going to the beach with her. She picked up a green and pink towel with turtle shapes all over it.

When she looked over to see if Vegeta had chosen his yet, he was snarling at the choices and looked like he was about to blast them into another dimension. Not good. "Hey Vegeta, why don't you get one that goes with your trunks?"

"Of course, Woman," he said, as if that's what he had been thinking all along. Soon he picked up a dark blue towel with white stripes and handed it to her along with his trunks. Bulma chuckled silently and went to the register to pay, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen on her way.

"Ok, Vegeta, let's go to the beach now," she practically sang as she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the store. "It's only a couple blocks away so let's just walk," she said once they were outside.

"Hn," came his usual reply and he walked next to her down the wide sidewalk. They passed a group of teenage girls wearing flamboyantly colored bikini tops and shorts, who turned their heads, shamelessly undressing the saiyan with their eyes. Bulma was not fully conscious of her reaction as she moved closer to Vegeta and looped her arm through his.

Vegeta looked at her, bewildered. Why was she so close to him, holding onto him like that? Was she afraid that he was going to leave her? When he tried to pull away from her and she tightened her hold on him, he decided to just let it slide. It was then she noticed what she was doing, and she scrambled for something to say to cover her strange actions.

"I'm really glad you're coming with me, Vegeta. We're going to have a lot of fun, I promise," she smiled sweetly and pulled him forward a little faster.

They finally passed the last building on the street and the sidewalk gave way to a small parking lot with a few cars in it. Across the parking lot there was a patch of trees with a sandy path going through it that led to the beach. Vegeta sniffed the air. The salty scent was stronger than ever. He heard a sort of roaring sound that seemed distantly familiar to him.

_He opened his eyes and swooped down over the water, the speed of his flight spraying the water around him. It stung his eyes and beaded in his hair, but he laughed in joy and looked to his side and saw a beautiful woman flying alongside him. Her long, black hair cascaded down her back and billowed in the cool wind._

_ "Vegeta, look down there," her silky voice beckoned his attention and he turned his gaze downward where she was pointing and gasped in delight when he saw massive creatures swimming barely under the surface of the clear blue ocean._

_ They flew for what must have been miles before he felt himself growing tired. A look of concern crossed the woman's face before she reached out to him and pulled him into her arms in a gentle embrace. "Come, son, when you are four years old you will be able to cross the whole ocean by yourself." She smiled down at him and wrapped her tail around him as she sped forward. He closed his eyes and held onto her tightly, surrounded by her warmth and strength._

"Vegeta, are you alright?"

He had stopped and his eyes were glazed over as he looked into the distance, not really seeing. He snapped back to the present when he heard Bulma's concerned voice. He looked down at her and for a moment lost himself in her eyes again, the same cerulean the ocean of Vegeta-sei had been.

"I'm fine, Woman," he answered gruffly before stalking off.

Bulma shrugged and ran to catch up with him. She took his arm again, which felt more natural this time. He flinched a little, but otherwise made no indication that he even noticed her action. They walked through the trees and were greeted with the sights and smells of the beach. Sand, sun, salt, water, water, and more water. And a good number of people walking around wearing practically nothing. Vegeta raised his eyebrows in wonder.

"Why are all these people almost naked?" he asked aloud.

Bulma giggled before telling him, "those are swimsuits, silly. It's perfectly normal to wear that at the beach. There's some changing stalls over there." She walked him over to the stalls and pushed him into one and threw his trunks in after him before going into another one herself.

A few minutes later Bulma walked out wearing her new bikini. It was a deep red with a delicate white floral print. The top was a halter, tied behind her neck. The bottom rode extremely low on her hips, barely covering anything. Yes, she looked good. Very good. She didn't see Vegeta around anywhere though. She walked to the stall she had shoved him in and knocked on the door. "Vegeta, you in there?" she asked the door.

"Woman, I do not think this is appropriate."

"Come on, Vegeta, don't be such a prude. You're not wearing any less than you do when you train. Well, besides shoes." She tapped her foot impatiently and knocked on the door again when she got no reply from the saiyan.

"Fine!" There was an aggravated huff, she imagined accompanied by a scowl and his usual gesture of pinching the bridge of his nose when he was about to give into something he didn't like.

He opened the door and came out, arms crossed over his chest. She noticed that the trunks were fairly low on his hips, but that was how they were supposed to fit. It allowed her to see his chiseled abs, which she had to force herself to look away from after a minute of staring. She hoped she hadn't drooled.

"Give me your clothes so I can put them in a capsule," she said and held her hand out. He grunted and shoved his shoes and clothes into her open arm and scowled at the ground in front of him. His toes dug into the sand as he waited for her to capsulate their regular clothes.

"Ok, now let's go have some fun," came her cheery voice.

His eyes roamed up her body as he raised his head. He saw all of her slender, milky white legs. His eyes stopped when he reached the bottom of her bikini. It didn't leave much to the imagination. His eyes widened as they resumed their travel up her flat belly and stopped again when they reached her cleavage. Her breasts were pushed together by two triangular pieces of cloth connected only by an inch wide band that wrapped around her body. He followed the V shape up to her neck and noticed that it came together in a knot behind her neck. How long had he been staring at the woman? He didn't know. His face felt hot and he turned away from her before he ever met her eyes.

Bulma smirked. His reaction had been even better than she imagined. He _had_ noticed how good she looked, even if he would never say so. "Woman, you wear that in public?" he finally asked, somewhat aghast.

"Of course. Trust me, I'm wearing more than some women, I'm sure." She grabbed his arm again and pulled him out onto the beach, having placed the capsule of clothes in the shopping bag with their towels.

The hot sand shifted beneath their feet, causing Bulma to slip and almost fall a few times. Instead of feeling embarrassed she laughed and tried to drag Vegeta down with her. He would stand firm, but smirk in amusement at her antics. They reached a space that was adequately separated from the other people at the beach and Bulma spread their towels out on the ground.

She sat down on her towel and took the sunscreen out of the bag and started applying it to her legs, stomach, and arms. Vegeta watched out of the corner of his eye as he sat down on his towel next to her. He didn't know what they were supposed to do. Just sit?

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That smells awful, Woman," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want to get sunburned," she said with a sigh. She hated the smell of sunscreen as much as anyone and didn't need to be reminded of it.

"Sunburned?"

"You've never been burned from being in the sun too long?" The blank stare she got in response gave her the only answer she needed. "Guess not."

"Hn."

"Do you think you could put some on my back?" she asked after a few minutes. He looked at her and snarled when she thrust the bottle into his hand.

"I don't want to smell like this shit," he grumbled before dropping it on the ground.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you can put it on my back and then wipe it off your hands. It's not a big deal. And anyway, it stops smelling after a while." She handed the bottle to him again and opened the top. "Please?"

When the saiyan prince pinched the bridge of his nose she knew she had won. She turned onto her stomach and felt a cold glob of sunscreen drop onto her back. Vegeta raised his hand to spread it around as he had seen her do, but his hand stopped before it touched her back. It was true he didn't want that putrid scent on his hands, but he was more concerned about touching the woman's back. It seemed inappropriate, even though he couldn't place the reason why. Was there some significance to it that he'd learned so long ago he could hardly remember? He pushed that thought out of his head.

He laid his hand down on her back and slowly rubbed the stinking lotion around. For some reason he couldn't comprehend, he felt nervous when he reached her lower back, so he quickly finished and took his hand away from her as if he had been burned.

"Thanks, Vegeta," the blue-haired woman sighed as she raised herself up on her elbows. She liked the way his calloused hand felt on her soft skin. The contrast seemed to make the sensation more enjoyable. And his skin was so warm, like he was on fire, but not unpleasant.

"Hn." Vegeta stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands, staring out across the waves of the ocean. Several minutes passed with only the roaring of the ocean, the seagulls crying out overhead, and the distant laughter of children filling the air. There was that feeling again. Peace. Vegeta willed the edginess that followed to go away, but he couldn't rid himself of it completely.

Bulma seemed to sense his growing agitation. She figured maybe he just needed to do some sort of activity that would keep his mind busy. Standing up, she held her hand out to him. "Walk with me," she said.

Looking uneasy again, he ignored her hand and stood up without her help. "Walk where?"

"Just around. I have to show the world that I look hot, you know. It's practically my duty to share my beauty," she sighed dramatically and winked at him. He snorted.

"I don't know why you think anyone would want to have to see your ugliness."

"Vegeta! That was mean," she pouted and pulled him along with her anyway.

They walked down closer to the ocean. The water would periodically wash up over their feet and the sand squished between their toes as they walked along the coast. The cold would send a shiver through Bulma's body whenever it hit, but it felt good on the hot day. Bulma looked at her silent companion, her eyes feasting on the hard muscles of his chest, his well defined abs, and his broad, muscular back. There couldn't have been an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. His arms and legs were nothing but muscle, but they weren't overly bulky. His trunks hugged his ass nicely, accentuating its tightness. 'Oh my Kami, I'm drooling over him like a school girl with a crush. What is wrong with me?' she wondered.

Vegeta hadn't noticed the woman's eyes wandering hungrily over his body as they walked. His thoughts were elsewhere. How long had it been since he had been to a beach? When he wasn't there to kill people? He couldn't remember. Most of the worlds he was sent to purge had oceans, but he never took the time to admire them. He never walked along beaches just for the sake of enjoying the feel of the sand under his feet and the vastness of the water stretching out before him. No, he had never had time for pleasure when he was working under Frieza. Probably the last time he had been to a beach with no mission was back on Vegeta-sei. He began to wonder just how much he had missed out on all those years when he was Frieza's slave.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when he felt the woman's elbow in his ribs. He grunted and narrowed his eyes at her. "What?" he snapped.

"I was just saying how you're apparently the best eye candy on the beach," she said and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Eye candy? What are you talking about, Woman?"

Bulma motioned with her head towards all the women on the beach who were staring at him, jaws dropped. They didn't care if he noticed them drooling over him, he was H-O-T! Bulma laughed when she saw his mortification and looped her arm through his again.

"Don't worry, tough guy. I'll beat them off with a stick if they get too close," she teased.

"Oh? And why would you do that?" he teased back.

"Simple. I don't want any casualties today."

Vegeta scoffed. She knew as well as he did that he wouldn't kill anyone on this pathetic mudball unless he were seriously provoked. Looking at him like he was a piece of meat was, of course, offensive, but it was not worthy of death.

"I think you're just jealous," he told her in a deadpan tone.

"What? Jealous of what?" she screamed, flailing her free arm around.

"More women are noticing me than men are noticing you," he answered and smirked at the look of horror on her face. Before she could make a reply, he held his finger to her mouth to silence her. "Don't start, Woman."

Bulma furrowed her brows but said nothing. She huffed in indignation and continued walking, though somewhat sullenly. Vegeta chuckled at her childish pouting and wrapped his tail around her waist, as if to tell her he meant no harm by his words.

Despite her anger, she smiled when she felt the now familiar presence around her waist. It was strangely comforting, as an arm around the shoulders would be when she felt upset. She tentatively stroked the furry appendage with one finger and waited for a reaction from the prince. He didn't seem to notice. She stroked it again, and this time he visibly flinched. "Why don't you like me touching your tail?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He frowned before answering. "It's just… sensitive."

"Oh." Silence stretched between them. "I guess I should have known that. Goku almost died whenever someone touched his tail when he was a kid because it hurt so bad."

Vegeta sneered. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He stopped walking and turned to face her, wondering why she was so damned interested in his tail. He didn't feel like explaining it, but he knew she would keep asking. And anyway, he sort of owed her. She had been explaining little things about her culture to him for the past two days without complaint. Maybe she was curious about him like he was about her.

"Even though it does not hurt me when it is squeezed like it did for low-class saiyans, it is still very sensitive to touch. Depending on how you touch it, you can create different feelings of pleasure."

"Why is that bad?"

"Because it's too similar to another kind of touch that arouses… things," he finished lamely.

Bulma raised her eyebrow at his vague explanation. Things? "Like?"

Vegeta's face felt hot again. He looked to the sky and prayed to whatever god was listening that he wouldn't have to tell her what he meant. Perhaps it was coincidence that she seemed to get a grasp on what he said. "Oh! Oh. I see." She laughed nervously.

"If you don't know what you're doing, then you might do the wrong thing. And I don't want to have that problem," he told her.

"Then teach me."

"What? Why?" He couldn't believe that she would actually want to learn how to touch his tail in a way that would innocently give him pleasure.

"I want to know. And it's an excuse to touch it. It's so soft…" she trailed off. She started to stroke his tail again, knowing that he would eventually give in. He had to. Right?

He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from his tail as he unwrapped it from around her waist. "Not here, not now, probably not ever," he growled. His tail wrapped back around his hips just above his trunks where it was barely noticeable.

Bulma pouted again, but she figured it would be best not to complain. It would just make it more likely for him to choose the not ever option. They continued walking along the beach, feet sinking into the wet sand. An uncomfortable silence followed their last interaction. Bulma wanted to say something to take away the tension she felt between herself and Vegeta, but she didn't know what to talk about. Not that that had ever stopped her before.

"So how was training this morning?" she asked, trying to hide her lack of interest.

"Fine."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Oh my Kami, Bulma, is that you?" a woman's voice rang through the air, the pitch rising to fevered excitement by the end of the question. Bulma and Vegeta turned to look for its source.

There was a young woman with long, dark blue hair wearing a sea green bikini waving to them. Bulma did a double take. "Lunch? That you?"

The woman nodded and ran over to Bulma and embraced her heartily. "It's been so long since I've seen you!"

"Yeah, I know," Bulma said apologetically. Truth be told, she hadn't seen a lot of her old friends for a long time.

"Who's the guy?" Lunch asked as she looked at Vegeta.

"Vegeta," Bulma answered. "Oh, and Vegeta this is one of my old friends, Lunch."

Vegeta nodded curtly.

"Cool. Hey do you want to come play some volleyball? I'm here with some friends and we could use another player. Maybe I can get them to let Vegeta play too." Lunch smiled brightly and Bulma was unable to say no.

"Ok, Lunch. I don't know if he'll want to though." She turned to the saiyan and waited for him to answer for himself.

He looked confused. "Volleyball?"

"Yeah, you know the game where you hit the ball over the net and stuff," Lunch cheerily informed him.

Vegeta raised his eyebrow and looked to Bulma for help in this situation. "Why don't we just play for a while and he can join in later if he wants?" Bulma suggested, omitting the part where Vegeta would want to observe the rules of the game before trying his hand at it.

"Sure," Lunch replied and started pulling her friend to where a net had been set up and several men and women were standing around waiting for their additional players.

Vegeta followed them and sat down a safe distance away from where the players were standing. He watched as one of the women smacked a ball over the net and one of the members of the opposing team hit it up in the air and one of their teammates spiked it to the other side. A player on the first team dove into the sand and saved it from hitting the ground and another player managed to smack it over the net, but it went out of bounds.

He carefully noted all the rules as they were played out. The ball couldn't be hit out of bounds or hit the ground or else the other team would get a point. It could only be hit three times by different players each time it was on one side of the net. They rotated whenever the ball switched sides to be served. Simple enough.

Once he had the basic idea of the game down, he turned his full attention to the woman. She was covered in sand and stray hairs were sticking to the sweat on her face, but she was laughing and full of energy. The game was not highly competitive, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. The fun they were having seemed to radiate happiness, and he felt himself being infected with it. He almost smiled.

One of the male players on Bulma's team checked his watch and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Hey guys, I really need to go. Call me next time you're playing!" he called as he ran to gather his things and left the beach. The team sizes were now uneven and they were trying to decide whether or not to keep playing.

"Hey, Bulma, what about Veg… what's his name?" Lunch asked, looking toward the pointy-haired man sitting on the sidelines.

Bulma looked in his direction too and figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. He wouldn't back down from a challenge in any case. "Hey, Vegeta, think you're up to a game of volleyball with us pros?" she asked and winked at him.

He smirked in response. "Please. I would put you all to shame." He rose to his feet from his cross-legged position without uncrossing his arms from his chest. His back straight and head held high, he strode to the now vacant spot in her team.

"We'll see about that," the man serving the ball on the other team said smugly. Bulma grinned at her saiyan companion and turned back to the game. Vegeta spread his legs to shoulder width and waited, still not bothering to uncross his arms.

The ball flew over the net, heading straight toward the newest player to the game. Vegeta smirked and raised one hand, letting the ball bounce off the tips of his fingers and straight into the air. He moved out of the way and the woman next to him moved under the ball and bumped it closer to the net where a tall man at the front spiked it over, where it landed in the sand.

Now that he knew the weight of the ball and the relative force that was necessary to use in the game, Vegeta was able to get more involved. That was all he needed. He watched as Bulma raised her hand in an odd ritual wherein a fellow teammate did likewise and they smacked each other's hands. It appeared to be some sort of congratulatory gesture.

The ball switched sides and it was Bulma's turn to serve the ball. She smacked the ball over the net and it was hit back in a heartbeat. Vegeta, moving with superhuman speed dove into the sand and hit it back over the net, surprising everyone who did not have blue hair.

The game progressed and Vegeta's team pulled steadily ahead in score. The simplicity of the game was appealing to him. It was not physically taxing, but it required quick reflexes, which he was always eager to improve. Also, it forced him to carefully control his power. All in all, he was having fun while building his skills. He began to think games might be a beneficial part of his training in the future.

When the game ended, Bulma pulled Vegeta aside and grinned at him. "You sure you never played before?" she asked, voice full of amusement.

"Hn. Not my fault your human games are pathetically easy," he shot back.

"Easy, but fun, right?" Vegeta shrugged. She knew that was as close as she was going to get to an affirmative, so she smiled in satisfaction.

"So what now, Woman?" It was only mid-afternoon and he intended on spending it to the fullest seeking entertainment with Bulma.

"Well for one thing you learn my name. _Bulma_." Vegeta scoffed in reply. "And after that, we go swimming in the ocean."

"Fine, _Bulma_, let's go," he dragged her name out in mockery and headed toward the water. She gasped in mock surprise when she heard him say her name and grabbed his arm again as he made his way across the beach. She waved to Lunch and the others and promised to call her sometime.

Vegeta walked into the ocean until the water was up to his chest before he disappeared beneath the surface. Bulma looked around for him, but he was out of sight. She walked into the water a little deeper and was nearly knocked over by the incoming waves. When she was about to move closer to the beach, she felt something clamp around her ankles and drag her underwater, barely giving her time to take a breath before she was deprived of oxygen.

Vegeta pulled her close to him and swam further out until the water was much deeper than they could stand in. Seeing her struggling, he shot up to the surface where she gasped for air and blinked the salty water out of her eyes. Finally, she sputtered, "Vegeta! Are trying to fucking drown me?"

He smirked. "It certainly would make you be more quiet." He got a glare that was only partly angry.

They rose on a wave and were pushed back toward the beach a few yards before they sunk back down into the water. Vegeta, still holding onto Bulma with one arm, leaned back in the water and swam back out until another wave pushed them forward. She looked around and noticed that they were significantly farther out than anyone else. Normally she would be worried about the danger of the currents so far out, but she knew that Vegeta would have no problem getting them back to shore.

She relaxed against his body and held onto him whenever a large wave would push them up and toward the beach. He held her tightly and whenever the current dragged them beneath the water's surface he would push them back up before she would even need another breath of air.

Her wet hair clung to his chest as she rested against him, laughing when a stray piece of seaweed would drift by and tickle against her skin. She looked up at the blue sky and closed her eyes, simply enjoying the feeling of floating while a strong arm secured her to safety.

'Wait, Vegeta is my safety? That's ironic. I don't even trust him, but for some reason I know that he won't let me get hurt out here. He's really not as bad as any of us thought, anyway,' she thought to herself. She turned to look up at his face and her lips quirked up a little when she saw that his flame of hair was still standing perfectly upright despite being soaked.

"Doesn't your hair _ever_ stop standing straight up?" she asked, unable to control her fascination with it any longer.

He looked down at her and frowned slightly before shrugging. "You talk too much, Woman."

She sighed. "Seriously, Vegeta, I'm just curious." She hesitated a moment and tried to reason her way out of giving into her desire, but she reached up and, ignoring his warning look, ran her hand through his hair, finally getting to feel the texture.

It was similar to Goku's in that the individual strands of hair were thick, but they were soft to the touch, feathery. It gave some resistance to being pushed down and immediately shot back up toward the sky when her hand had passed through it. She found herself running her hand through it again, memorizing how it felt in case she never got to touch it again.

His hand rose and grabbed her wrist as it had done when she was stroking his tail and moved it back down to her side where it had been. He cocked his head as she had seen him do that morning and his impossibly black eyes searched her face, for what she didn't know. Her face flushed a little and she averted her eyes, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze.

"Why does your hair _not_ stand up?" he finally asked.

"Huh? Why?" She shrugged. She had never really thought about it. "I guess because it's soft and gravity pulls it down."

She forced herself not to flinch when he raised his hand and moved it closer to her head. She was afraid that he was going to hurt her for her answer. Maybe he thought she was being insolent? But that was not his intent. He dragged his fingers through her silky blue strands and his brows furrowed in curiosity. He rubbed some strands between his fingers before running his hand through it again.

"See? It's just different," she said quietly when he withdrew his hand.

"Hn." His curiosity satisfied, he felt no need to continue the conversation. He had never really answered her question, but figured she had answered it herself. It was just different.

Vegeta felt sand beneath him and looked around to see that while they had been discussing hair, the current had pushed them up on the beach. He felt jagged pieces of broken shells digging into his back and he frowned at the unpleasant feeling. Holding onto Bulma, he jumped to his feet and staggered out of the water that was trying to pull him back in and drag him through the pebbles and shells again. He denied it success.

Once the water was only ankle deep, he set the woman down on her feet and turned to walk back toward their towels so he could dry off. A flash erupted in his face and he blinked as small white spots appeared in his vision. "What the hell?" he growled.

"Miss Brief, who is the lucky man?" an annoying voice shouted as more flashes lit up the darkening beach as the sun sunk low in the sky.

"Oh hell," she mumbled. She turned away from the camera and hid her face with her hand while dragging an angry saiyan prince along behind her.

"What the fuck is going on, Woman?" he practically shouted.

"The damn paparazzi found me!" she shouted back. She reached their towels and picked hers up and threw it around her body, still trying to hide her face.

"The what?" he demanded, turning to growl at the small crowd of people with notepads and cameras.

"Reporters. They're always trying to find me to take pictures and get interviews for their newspapers and magazines," she explained briefly, picking up the bag that had their capsules and sunscreen in it. "Get your towel and let's go!"

His tail bristling slightly, he bared his teeth at the journalists and slung his towel around his neck before following the blue-haired woman.

A series of obnoxious questions followed them as they quickly retreated. "Is this your new boyfriend?" "What happened to Yamcha?" "Where were you at the—"

The questions continued, but Bulma wasn't listening or answering.

Once Vegeta and Bulma made it back to the parking lot, she threw one of the capsules on the ground, revealing the motorcycle. She grabbed her helmet and put it on and climbed on behind Vegeta, who started it and took off, leaving the paparazzi in a cloud of dust, questions still unanswered. At least they had a lot of good pictures.

"Damnit," she growled, "how the hell did they find me? They've never bothered me here before." She continued ranting about the annoyances of being rich and famous as Vegeta turned down random streets to make sure they weren't being followed.

"Where to, Woman?" he asked once he was sure that they had lost any of the fools who had tried keeping up with them.

"I don't know. We need to get changed, though."

He nodded and continued down the street, narrowly avoiding hitting slower moving cars as he continually changed lanes. Many angry shouts and rude hand gestures followed them, but they weren't paying any attention. Bulma recognized the area of town they were in and her expression changed from one of irritation to one of relief.

"Hey, Vegeta, we're pretty close to the Capsule Corporation headquarters building. We can go there and change and we can decide what to do next. Just turn right at the next corner and it's the tallest building on the right side of the street. Can't miss it."

He grunted, and she knew that he understood. She buried her head in his back and tightened her arms around him, embracing him more than holding onto him for dear life. She paid no heed to the tensing of his shoulders as he must have recognized the different way she was holding him.

Vegeta stopped in front of a tall skyscraper that had the CC logo above the main doors. He capsulated the motorcycle and they walked in, drawing some curious glances in their strange attire. The receptionist looked up and was about to tell the hoodlums to leave, but then she recognized the woman.

"Oh, Miss Brief, I haven't seen you here for a while!"

Bulma smiled and waved in greeting. "I'm not here on business. Don't tell my dad about this, ok?" she asked conspiratorially and winked before walking to the elevator and pushing the up arrow.

The receptionist smiled knowingly when she saw the blue-haired heiress loop her arm through the young man's. Luckily she was trustworthy and would keep her mouth shut about the odd encounter.

Ding! The elevator doors opened and the two stepped into it. Bulma hit the shut doors button to make sure they wouldn't be joined by anyone else. Then she pushed a button near the top and tapped her foot while she waited for the elevator to come to a stop and free them.

Vegeta crossed his arms and scowled at the wall opposite him. His reflection in the shiny metal scowled back. The doors opened and they stepped into a plush office suite. There was a mini kitchen on one side, leather chairs and couch opposite it, and a raised area with an enormous wood desk, two simple chairs in front of it, and a large leather chair behind it. Dim sunlight shone in through the wall-sized window behind the desk.

"Well, here's my office," she said dryly. She didn't care how nice it was, she preferred working in her dark lab in the basement of the compound. She wasn't a paperwork type of girl. But, as vice president of the corporation, she was given this office that she barely used, choosing to continue spending most of her time inventing instead of signing contracts or attending board meetings.

Bulma opened the capsule with their clothes and handed Vegeta's to him. "There's a bathroom over there, you can get changed first," she told him as she pointed to a door next to the kitchenette.

He grunted and walked into the bathroom. While he was changing she let her hair down and used her towel to dry it. There was a small pile of sand on the carpet by the time she was done toweling off, but she didn't care. The night janitor would come eventually and clean it up. She shook her sandy towel out and ran her hands through her hair, trying to untangle it and clean any remaining sand out of it.

Vegeta came out of the bathroom dressed in his street clothes again and sat down in one of the large leather chairs. Bulma grabbed her clothes and ran into the bathroom. She wiped the gritty sand off her skin where her bikini had been and quickly dressed. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still a mess. Sighing, she smoothed it out the best she could and pulled it into a ponytail again. At least it was somewhat tamed.

She left the bathroom and saw Vegeta sitting down, tossing a small violet ki ball back and forth between his hands, though it never touched them. If he opened his hand wider it would grow, but if he closed his hand it would shrink. Bulma had always been fascinated with her friends' abilities to manipulate ki. It was something she knew she would never master, but it was interesting to see. And he seemed to have such perfect control of his. It was like an art, and he was a master of it.

Bulma sat down in the chair across from his and propped her feet up on the coffee table, watching intently as he played with the ball of ki. He knew she was there, but he never looked away from the ki ball, as if he might lose it if he turned his attention away from it for even a fraction of a second. Actually, that might not be so far-fetched.

She should have been nervous, seeing raw power like that being toyed with freely in her office, but she was not worried that he would lose control and destroy something. For all she knew, there was enough power in that small ball to destroy the entire building. But still, she was not concerned.

He tossed it around, catching it and changing its size for a while longer. Then a look of deep concentration came across his face and the color of his ki ball started changing. It went from bright violet to a deep blue, then a fluorescent green. Bulma watched, entranced in what he was doing. She had never seen anyone do something like that before. It probably served no real purpose, but it was neat anyway. She leaned forward a little, her eyes glued to the ki ball as closely as his were.

The green energy grew in size slightly as he stretched his hand open, and suddenly glowed a brilliant gold color. It reminded her of Goku's aura when he transformed into a super saiyan. A minute passed, both of them silently staring at the golden ball of light. Slowly, its color dulled and it changed to orange, and for a moment Bulma could have sworn he was now holding a flame of fire in his hand. She held her breath as she waited in awe as the color continued to deepen into a dark scarlet, the same color of freshly spilled blood.

"That's a beautiful color," she whispered to no one in particular.

"Yes. It is the color of the sky of Vegeta-sei," he mumbled so softly she wasn't sure he had spoken. But when she looked in his eyes, the blackness reflecting the scarlet light, she could see something akin to grief.

Suddenly he clenched his hand into a fist and the light disappeared completely. Bulma blinked a few times and sat back in her seat, not having noticed that she was leaning forward to see the ki better. "How did you change its color like that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's pretty easy really, just changing the amount of energy I put into it. I use it as an exercise for controlling my power output in my attacks." His outstretched hands dropped into his lap and he looked over her shoulder out the window in the back of her office.

Bulma yawned and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back slightly. She was starting to feel tired after a long night and active day. Vegeta's attention turned to her and he saw her fatigue as if it were radiating off her in visible waves.

"So what do you want to do next, 'Geta?" she asked tiredly. He frowned at the use of that blasted nickname but decided not addressing it might be the best way to make it stop.

"Take a nap, Woman. You'll be no fun if you're yawning and falling asleep."

"I'm not that tired," she said as she tried to hold back another yawn.

"Whatever." He stood up and in a few long strides was at the window, looking out across the city. The sky was darkening and lights across the city were slowly turning on. The lonely lights reminded him of the stars in the sky, so small, but providing light to someone far away.

She decided that maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea and laid down on the couch, using her arms as a pillow. She didn't know how long he would let her sleep, but figured once he was bored enough he would wake her up. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep shortly after.

Vegeta spread his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt as though he were overlooking the city as a king might look out over his empire. He supposed that with all the power the Briefs family held with their giant corporation, they were in a way rulers over this world. Few could hold a candle to their wealth and prestige. They practically controlled the global economy. Yes, they were rulers of sorts. The closest thing this world had to royalty. He snorted and looked at the sleeping woman. 'Behold, the princess of Earth,' he thought sardonically. 'Am I any better? The prince of a dead race. Ruler over space dust.' He stared out the window for a long time, not allowing any more thoughts into his mind.

The sky darkened completely and he sat in the large chair behind the desk with his arms resting on it. The office was dark like the sky, but he did not need artificial light to see. He felt at home in the dark, his keen eyesight and sensitive hearing able to sense anything out in the dark as he was able to move stealthily, a born hunter.

But this night he stalked no prey. For once in his life he was not fighting for survival. There was no fresh blood on his hands and he was free of his tormentor forever. He should be happy. Really, truly happy. But he felt empty inside. All purpose in his life had been taken from him in an instant. He had been defeated and surpassed, leaving humiliation as his only companion as he drifted on through life.

Instead of the usual wave of fury that came over him when he entertained such thoughts, he felt a deep longing for something more. Some substance in his life. Here he was on a backwater planet on the edge of the galaxy, training to defeat some tin cans. After that, he hoped to defeat his rival, Kakarrot, then maybe destroy the mudball. But then where would he go? What would he do? There was no home for him to return to. No family, no friends, no people. He realized that he truly had nothing. Nothing at all.

Vegeta was still brooding when Bulma woke up, her eyes slowly opening as her mind raced to remember where she was. She looked around for Vegeta, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness of her office. She quietly sat up and then she saw his flame of hair silhouetted against the light of the city coming in through the window. As her eyes adjusted better to the dim light, she was able to make out his angular features and arms sprawled out on the desk as if it were his to claim.

'Wow,' she thought, 'he looks like he belongs there. He was obviously born to rule, you can see it the way he sits. Even alone his presence is commanding. If I didn't know better I'd think this were the throne room of some planet that was destroyed years ago.' She smiled sadly and watched him, but he did not move an inch, not even looking her way.

After a few silent minutes, he looked down at his hands on the desk and his brows lowered slightly, almost imperceptibly. The corners of his mouth bent down and the light shimmered in his eyes as if dancing off the smooth surface of an undisturbed pool of water. Bulma gasped. Was he…?

Vegeta's eyes shot up to meet hers and his mouth straightened into a firm line, returning his expression to stony stoicism. Bulma cleared her throat softly and stood up, forcing a smile she didn't feel like giving. "Hey."

"Hn."

Bulma's eyes turned to the clock hanging on the wall and groaned when she saw how late it was. "You hungry?" she asked. He nodded once. "Then let's go get some dinner. I'm famished myself," she said, forcing some cheer into her tone.

He rose from his seat and strode over to her, standing right in front of her. His silence seemed different from normal. His lack of snide remarks disconcerted her and she looked into his eyes, searching for the emotion that had been displayed so openly only a minute ago. She felt tears welling in her own eyes when she thought about what she had seen. What he must have been feeling.

She tried to hold them back but one escaped and slowly rolled down her cheek. She silently cursed, not wanting to show weakness in front of the powerful prince. She flinched when she felt callous fingers lightly tracing the tear's path. "Do not pity me, Woman," he whispered.

"I…" she started weakly, but could say no more. She sniffed and nodded. His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her. She was hardly aware of herself as her hands reached up to cup his face and she rocked forward to the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his forehead.

When she pulled back, his eyes were fixed on hers, his eyebrows rising in wonder. He had only seen her kiss others on the cheek, and only those who she was very close to such as her parents and the weakling. What did her action mean?

"You are so…" she stopped, trying to find the best word for what she felt. "Strong."

He was silent. She lost herself in his bottomless black orbs, trying to figure out what he was feeling. Then, slowly, his mouth twisted into a smirk. "I know that, Woman."

"That's not what I mean, Vegeta," she retorted, happy to see that he seemed to be returning to normal. The sorrow had lifted from his countenance.

"Then what did you mean?" he asked, truly curious. He wasn't used to being complimented on his strength.

"You've just been through so much. It never ceases to amaze me when I think about it. I'm awestruck by your strength. How you lived through it all and grew from it." She knew that she was stoking his pride, but she didn't care right then. He deserved to know how she felt about him. To know that she respected him. To give him what he had lacked all his life: to have someone _else_ be proud of him.

His eyes dropped. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she felt like he was about to tell her his deepest secret and he needed to brace her for it. She held her breath in anticipation. He raised his eyes to look into hers again, his hot breath brushing against her lips. "Woman, I grew into a bloodthirsty monster. A shadow of what I should have been."

"But Vegeta—" He placed his finger on her lips and shook his head.

"It is the truth. By now I would have been the King of all Saiyans, having taken the throne from my father. I would have been proud ruler of the greatest warrior race in the universe. My strength would have been unrivaled. I could have been the great king I was trained to be as a child, with a strong mate by my side. I would never have spilled blood for another's empire, I never would have lost my mind, or had the blood of entire races staining my hands." When his voice started shaking he stopped. He had already said so much more than he had ever let be known before. But for some reason it felt so _natural_ to tell it to this little human woman.

"Vegeta," he heard her whisper softly, little more than a breath on her lips. He closed his eyes and pulled her close, resting his head on her shoulder as he buried his face in her neck, deeply inhaling her scent.

Bulma embraced him tightly and rubbed his back comfortingly. His soft hair brushed against her cheek and she rubbed her cheek against his head. His tail dropped from his waist and hung limply between his legs. "Vegeta," she whispered again, not knowing what else to say.

She said nothing as wetness ran down her neck and pooled on her blouse. She held him tightly as his body shuddered silently. Bulma buried her face in his hair and felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks and into his thick mane of hair. "I'm proud of you, Vegeta, so proud."

Several long minutes passed, Vegeta and Bulma having sunk down to their knees as the effort it took to stand had become overwhelming. Bulma was cooing in his ear and kissing his head as she rubbed his back, not wanting to let him go. His grip on her was nearly crushing her, but she didn't complain.

'How many years have you kept this bottled up? How deeply wounded are you? Your heart must have been broken into millions of pieces and never put back together again.' More tears escaped her eyes and she held him tighter, wanting to protect him from things she could never understand.

"Woman," he mumbled into her neck, "do not pity me. Do _not_."

"I don't, Vegeta," she assured him quietly. "I would never. I respect you far too much to ever do that."

He fell into silence again and his ragged breaths became more even. He rubbed his eyes against her blouse and lifted his head, pulling back from her. She was reluctant to let him out of her embrace, but she would not hold onto him when he wanted to be free.

His arms fell from her waist to his sides. "Why do you shed tears for me?" he asked.

She dropped her gaze her to lap and wrung her hands nervously. She bit her bottom lip and exhaled slowly through her nose, not sure how to answer him. She didn't want to seem weak in front of him, but she wanted to be honest with him. She didn't pity him, so what was it?

"I cry for you because it hurts me to see you hurting."

"My pain is none of your concern, Woman," he answered gruffly, raising the walls around his heart again.

"It is, Vegeta. Because I care about you," she answered quietly, honestly.

Silence.

"You will not tell –"

"No, Vegeta. I will never speak a word of this ever. Not even with you."

He nodded, hoping it was not foolish to trust her. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead again, pleased that he did not resist.

The proud saiyan was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to really notice her affection. He was partially disgusted with himself for such an emotional display. The only other time he could remember ever crying like that was when he begged Kakarrot to avenge the saiyans. Now here he was, shedding tears like a child, and for what? Because he was sad that he was alone? He'd never felt loneliness before. He never cared. He sighed. Things changed when he was brought back to life. Inner demons he'd kept suppressed were fighting for attention more than ever, and without his goal of defeating Frieza present, he couldn't keep ignoring them. Past hurts were weighing too heavily on him now.

Just then the elevator door opened and the night janitor's eyes nearly fell out of his head. There was the beautiful heiress, on the floor with a man. He couldn't clearly see what she was doing in the dark, but he could tell that they had both turned to look at him.

"'Scuse me, Miss, I'll just come back later," he stammered as he pushed the close doors button. They shut in front of him and Bulma started chuckling. That lightened the mood.

Vegeta sneered and sat back on his feet, curling his tail back around his waist. "Weren't we going to go get dinner?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," she said as she stood up, her knees nearly buckling under her as the blood rushed to her feet that had gone to sleep. A strong arm around her waist steadied her. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Hurry up, Woman. I need nourishment."

Vegeta walked to the elevator and pushed the down arrow. A minute later the doors opened and they got inside and hit the button marked 'M.' They said nothing as they left the building. Vegeta threw the motorcycle capsule on the ground and Bulma put her helmet on. Soon they were speeding through West City in search of a restaurant that could satisfy a saiyan appetite.

The saiyan let his nose guide them, sniffing for the sweet aroma of food. They passed by several restaurants, but he deemed none of them worthy. Finally, he stopped in front of a brightly lit restaurant that advertised an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Inside, Bulma paid for them and Vegeta headed straight for the buffet while Bulma found them seats and ordered their drinks. He found the table she was seated at and sat down with four plates of food. She rolled her eyes. It was apparently going to be a repeat of the experience at the buffet in the mall. She got up to go get some food as he proceeded to wolf down everything piled on his plates.

Nearly an hour later, Vegeta finally finished. They left and got back on Vegeta's motorcycle. "Any ideas of what to do the rest of the night?" he asked, revving the engine as he got ready to take off.

"Nope. Let's just drive around the city like we did last night," came the answer. As he pulled forward into the street, she wrapped her arms around him and he tightened his tail around her waist. She had become quite comfortable with this position. She rested her head against his shoulder and smiled as she saw the city flying past them.

"I think I might actually like you," she whispered. There was no sign that he heard, but she didn't mind.

Time, like the city, passed by quickly. It was late at night when they returned to the Capsule Corp compound. Bulma slid off the motorcycle and stretched her stiff arms and legs. Vegeta picked his capsule up and went inside. No one was awake and the lights were all off. He disappeared into the darkness before Bulma could flip the light switches.

She yawned and locked the door behind her. Rubbing her eyes, she trudged upstairs and went to her room. Peeling her clothes off, she went to her bathroom to take a shower before going to bed. She needed to get the smell of the ocean off her and the rest of the sand out of her hair.

Vegeta was in his room entertaining similar thoughts. He took his clothes off and put them in the laundry hamper in his closet before going to his bathroom to shower. Old habits die hard, and he couldn't stand having anything out of place in his living quarters. As the hot water streamed down his back, his thoughts went back to the softly spoken sentence he hadn't wanted to believe he heard earlier. _'I think I might actually like you.'_ What did that even mean? No one had ever liked him before. He was more certain now than ever that the woman was insane.

Bulma got out of the shower and dried her hair, then wrapped her towel around her body. Once in her room, she pulled on a silk robe and laid down on the bed. 'I want to help him. Somehow. I want to make him whole again.' Her thoughts slowly jumbled together as she pulled the covers over herself and drifted off to sleep.

Vegeta could not sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, but found it impossible to find a comfortable position conducive to sleep. His bed was the culprit. It was not like the pallet he had been given on Freiza's ship. It was not like what he slept in when he was on Vegeta-sei. And it was nothing like the space pod he had literally spent years sleeping in. He growled.

He ripped the covers off his bed and threw them on the floor along with his pillows. He collapsed onto the pile he had made and formed the blankets and pillows into a makeshift nest. Wrapping himself around a body pillow and burying himself in the blankets, he was finally able to find elusive sleep.

_A/N: Here it is, a fantastically long chapter. I hope you enjoyed. And let me just say this: Vegeta wasn't _that _out of character. He's seen crying at least twice (when Frieza kills him and in Fusion Reborn), so it's not like he never would. Think about it, he's considering, maybe for the first time, how absolutely alone he is and the meaninglessness of his life. I think even Vegeta's got a breaking point. Don't agree? Then review. More importantly, he's being forced to trust Bulma with his secret. What will she do with it?_

_And for the record, yes, Vegeta and Bulma notice how attractive the other is. That doesn't mean they're lusting after each other. They're not hormone-driven sex beasts._

_Song: "Frozen" by Madonna_


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: Rated for more than just language. Chapter contains implied rape/sodomy.

Chapter 7

_Back down to the glorious #1  
My prints all over the smoking gun  
Back down to the glorious #1  
All lines to the living are now undone_

The next morning, he was roused out of sleep by the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. He groaned and nuzzled deeper into his pillows, pulling one over his head to block out the offensive noise. The knocking continued accompanied by the woman's screeching voice. "Vegeta, wake up! Breakfast is ready! Are you in there?" More knocking. He groaned again.

"Go away," he mumbled even though he knew she wouldn't hear him. He pulled the blanket around him tighter and prayed to Kami that she would just leave.

No such luck. He heard the doorknob turning and the hinges of the door creaking as it was pushed open. He groaned again. Why was he forbidden to have sleep?

Bulma looked at the pile of bedding on the floor. There was a black flash of hair that gave away the prince's location. She planted her hands on her hips and frowned at the mess. 'I _knew_ there have been pillows disappearing from around the house!' was her thought as she noted what his nest was composed of.

"Vegeta, come on. It's getting late. Don't you have training to do or something?"

She heard an animalistic growl coming from the pile of blankets and pillows. For some reason it wasn't very intimidating coming from underneath a pillow. She went to the window and pulled the blinds open, letting the sunlight shine in on him. She saw movement under the blankets as he curled into a ball.

"You're not sick, are you?" she asked, voice laced with concern.

"Saiyans do not get sick, Woman. But they do require sleep periodically!" he snarled.

"It's almost ten in the morning, your highness. My mom sent me up here to get you because she's worried since you didn't come down to get breakfast earlier. Now get up." She felt like she was talking to a teenager who refused to get up for school.

He made no move to get up. "I'm not leaving until you're up," she warned. It was hard to stay stern with him at that moment. His behavior was almost _cute_.

"Then I'll blast you into another…" his speech became too muffled to understand as he nuzzled into his pillow deeper.

Losing patience, Bulma walked over to the saiyan's makeshift nest and pulled the blanket off him. His arm flew out and snatched it back and pulled it back over his body. Everything but his hair was covered again. Sighing in frustration, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at him. "Fine, if I can't get you up then I know who can." Bulma pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number and waited patiently for someone to pick up on the other end.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered, sounding distracted.

"Hey Chi, is Goku around?" Bulma asked, keeping her eye on the pile of bedding in front of her.

"Oh hey, Bulma. Yeah, he's just outside with Gohan and that Piccolo. I'll get him." Bulma waited a couple minutes before she heard the ever cheerful voice of her best friend near the phone on the other end.

"Bulma! What's up?" he asked.

Now how should she word this? She smirked. "I need your help. I'm having some serious trouble with Vegeta," she said, trying to make her voice shake a little.

"I'll be right there." His voice was serious now. She felt bad for making him assume the worst, but what was about to happen would be _so_ worth it. Vegeta still hadn't stirred. She wasn't sure he was even awake anymore.

A few short seconds later, Goku appeared in front of her with two fingers on his forehead. "What's wrong, Bulma?" he demanded before she could recover from the shock of seeing him materialize before her eyes. She would never get used to him just popping out of nowhere like that.

Bulma gestured with her head toward the pile on the floor. "I can't get Vegeta up."

Goku turned and looked at the pile as well. "Huh?"

"I tried to wake him up but he won't get up. I don't know if something's wrong with him. He just told me that saiyans don't get sick and ranted about blasting me into another dimension and went back to sleep."

"Bulma," he whined, dragging her name out, "I thought this was serious!"

"It is! This is really unusual for him. He's normally up by the crack of dawn, if not earlier." She turned her attention to the sleeping prince. "Hey Vegeta! Wake. Up!"

There was more angry grumbling from under the pillow but no other response. Bulma looked up at Goku and raised her eyebrow as if to say 'I told you something was up.'

Goku furrowed his brows and scratched the back of his head. "Vegeta, what's up?" he asked, thinking he might get a more coherent response than Bulma had.

There was some mumbling that sounded something like 'Goats ate cake or carrots.' Goku looked back to Bulma, completely confused now. "Goats ate cake or carrots?" he repeated questioningly.

She nearly fell off the bed laughing. "I think he said 'Go away, Kakarrot.'"

"Oh." Comprehension sunk in. "That's not very nice!" he told the blankets indignantly.

More incoherent sounds.

Goku shrugged his shoulders. He decided he would just have to do what he did when Gohan took too long getting up. He grabbed the blanket and yanked it off the sleeping prince. This time the arm that shot out to catch the fleeing blanket wasn't fast enough.

The two friends couldn't see his face because it was still under a pillow, but his body was curled up tightly in the fetal position with his tail wrapped around his thigh. He was only wearing boxers, but he was sweating profusely.

Bulma gasped. His usually olive skin was pale and he was trembling. "Vegeta, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down next to him. She could feel the heat radiating off him even before she pressed her hand to his forehead. She hissed in pain and jerked her hand away.

He groaned and slowly pulled the pillow off his head. He blinked his eyes a few times as he tried to focus. "What do you want, Woman?" he muttered, unable to make it sound as menacing as he wanted.

"I want to know why you've got all the symptoms of a serious fever if saiyans don't get sick," she told him, frowning.

"It is nothing, Woman. I just need to work off excess energy," he told his pillow as he closed his eyes.

Bulma looked up at Goku who was standing there helplessly. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" she asked. Vegeta certainly didn't look like he had any energy to spare, let alone have too much of it.

"Not really," her friend said, scratching his head again in puzzlement.

She decided to play along with what the saiyan prince had said. "Then get up and get busy working it off. Sleeping isn't going to help." She crossed her arms and waited.

He grumbled some more but opened his eyes again.

"Don't make me have Goku force you to get up," she threatened.

His eyes narrowed as if daring her to follow through. Goku laughed nervously and waved his hands in front of him, silently begging her not to ask him to do anything that would anger Vegeta.

Bulma ignored his pleading. "Goku, drag him out of bed if you have to, but have him downstairs in ten minutes." She stood up and walked out of the room, going downstairs to tell her mother to expect Vegeta soon.

"You had better stay away from me, Kakarrot," Vegeta snarled.

"Sorry, 'Geta, she's counting on me to get you up," the younger saiyan said. He moved over to Vegeta's side and grinned widely. "I won't have to do anything if you just get up."

"You don't have to do anything that woman says! Now leave me alone."

Goku shook his head. He bent over and before Vegeta could react, he was holding him under his arm and carrying him toward the door.

"Let go of me you low class fool!" Vegeta shouted as he kicked and flailed his arms around, but he was unable to make contact with his captor. His movements were sluggish and lacking precision, as if he had little control over them.

"No can do, 'Geta." Goku winced in pain as Vegeta's tail slapped him in the back, but it wasn't enough to make him let go of the enraged prince. He was sure that he was going to pay for this later, but he feared Bulma's wrath more than Vegeta's. Goku had to tighten his hold as Vegeta's sweat slickened body started slipping out of his grip as he struggled.

"Put me down this instant!" Vegeta continued struggling as Goku carried him out of his room and down the hall to the stairs. He growled and snapped his teeth threateningly, but to no avail. He was not going to be freed until he was downstairs and sitting at the kitchen table.

Hearing the commotion, the Briefs all ran to the bottom of the stairs to see what was going on. Vegeta was mortified. His pale face turned red and he growled louder and flailed more energetically. His tail wrapped around Goku's arm and tried to pull it off him.

"Calm down!" Goku cried as the blood flow was cut off from his lower arm.

They were now halfway down the stairs and Bulma was rolling on the floor laughing. Dr. Brief was smiling in amusement and Mrs. Brief looked as clueless as ever. How dare this clown treat him in such a manner, especially in front of these humans? He would never live this down. He felt his pride melting away with each step the younger saiyan took.

Vegeta twisted around and got a solid hit on Goku's stomach, but it was not enough to earn his freedom. It seemed like time was going in slow motion though it had only been about twenty seconds since Goku had picked him up.

In his rage, Vegeta's mind reeled between reality and an old memory. He was hardly able to retain his sanity as images flickered between Capsule Corp and the inside of a spaceship.

_He had been sleeping on his hard cot. He was alone because he had refused to go train that morning, his body begging to recover after his last excursion. He was tired, sore, covered in deep bruises and his energy was drained. So the two older saiyans had left him to go eat and train._

_ They had been gone for over an hour when someone came into the small, windowless quarters the saiyans shared. Vegeta curled up tighter, ready to tell his subordinates off if they tried to rouse him, but he only heard one set of footsteps coming his way. And they didn't sound like those of either Raditz or Nappa. He opened his eyes and looked up. He saw a pair of pale green legs standing in front of him._

_ "Get up, little monkey, Frieza wants to see you," Zarbon's smooth, deep voice floated through the air, immediately putting Vegeta on edge._

_ Vegeta shot up in bed into a defensive crouch. He snarled, "What the hell would he want with me? I haven't done anything wrong!" He knew that didn't matter, but he hoped that maybe, just this once, he would be able to talk his way out of another merciless, pointless beating. His body was screaming at him just for the move he made, and it made him fear his chances of surviving Frieza's torture._

_ Zarbon scowled. "If you won't come out standing, then I'll just take you by force."_

_ Vegeta's confidence wavered. He couldn't think for the life of him why Frieza would want to see him. He had just completed one of the most difficult missions successfully and ahead of schedule. Nappa and Raditz hadn't gone and done something stupid, had they?_

_ Sighing, Zarbon grabbed the small boy off the cot and tucked him under his arm and carried him out of the room. Truth be told, Zarbon hated having to deliver the saiyan prince like this. He didn't care for the monkey, but what Frieza was planning even disgusted him. Frieza had told him that he had grown bored with the sex slaves on the ship. He needed fresh blood. After thinking for a minute, he had ordered Zarbon to go and fetch the monkey prince and bring him to his personal chambers._

"Put me down, you fool! I'll kill you for this, Zarbon!" Vegeta roared as some of his punches started landing on the man carrying him down the stairs. The others looked on in total bafflement. Zarbon? Who was he? Then it clicked in Bulma's head. He was that awful green monster who worked for Frieza that she had seen on Namek. She stopped laughing.

_Vegeta twisted around under Zarbon's arm, trying to position himself for a good attack. He was screaming and snarling incoherently, furious about being carried like a sack of potatoes. His fury only grew when they passed other soldiers who stopped to laugh and mock him in his distress. His small fists landed on Zarbon's chest, but their weakened strength was easily absorbed by his armor. It was no use, he could not get away._

_ His horror and confusion grew when they walked past Frieza's throne room. His eyes widened and he growled and snarled viciously, like a cornered animal. His fists continued beating the armor, but Zarbon only jostled him harshly in mild annoyance._

Goku finally reached the bottom of the stairs and nodded his greeting to the elder Briefs. He noticed that some color had returned to the older saiyan. That was a good sign. He was still struggling like a wild animal, growling, and issuing death threats, but that could only be expected given his humiliating situation. "Here he is," Goku told them, as if it weren't obvious.

_"Here is the monkey prince, Lord Frieza," Zarbon announced as he bowed after the door to his master's chambers opened, revealing the small pink creature. Frieza smirked evilly and traced his cold finger along Vegeta's jaw line._

_ "Ah, there's my little pet." He took the prince, now frozen in fear, by the back of his body suit and carried him into his room where he threw him on the bed. His feminine voice laughed before dismissing his loyal servant, "Very good, Zarbon, you may go." Zarbon bowed and left, the door shutting behind him._

_Frieza might have thought Vegeta was dead given the lifelessness of his body. He was hardly breathing as he watched in horror as the pink lizard undressed before climbing on top of him on the bed. The only sign of life was the boiling rage, terror, and loathing in his black eyes._

Vegeta's body went limp as he glared at Bulma. His tail hung uselessly between his legs, occasionally twitching in anger. He looked like a cat that had just been forced to take a bath. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

Bulma swallowed hard and forced the lump in her throat back down. She recognized the glassy look in his eyes. He was not completely in touch with reality, which only helped to back up her idea that he was having some sort of flashback. He had called Goku Zarbon and she thought she heard him mention Frieza, Nappa, and Raditz as well, but his screaming had been mostly incoherent. Tears formed in her eyes, but she willed them away. She just had to keep telling herself that she was doing this for his own good. He was sick or had some sort of saiyan condition or _something_ and he needed help.

Goku looked extremely uncomfortable. He, too, had noticed the saiyan prince losing his hold on reality. He had been able to make out the name of Vegeta's old tormentor numerous times, the hoarseness of his voice indicated fear more than anger. Whatever was going on in his mind had to have been a traumatic experience, even for someone as strong as Vegeta.

"Vegeta?" Bulma tried to talk to him, "Hey, Vegeta, it's ok. We're not going to hurt you or anything. Goku will put you down if you promise not to hurt him when he lets you go."

Vegeta growled again, and this time it was unnerving. His tail bristled until it looked at least three times bigger than usual. It flicked violently as he bared his teeth at her. How _dare_ she do this to him? She said the night before that she respected him! This was no way to treat someone you respect. Someone you fear. Someone you…you like!

"I do not give my word to liars," he snarled through clenched teeth. That caught both Goku's and Bulma's attention.

"Liar?" she asked, unsure of what he meant.

"You," he spat.

There was fire in his eyes as he gazed at her with what could only be described as hatred. She did not know how to respond. How was she a liar? Before she could ask, he continued.

"What's next? You'll tell him what happened last night? Tell him everything I said? I was a fool to trust you. You said you respected me. You fucking lying bitch!" he screamed.

Bulma put her hand over her heart, which felt like it was breaking. She had no idea that he would react this way. She had hurt him. Deeply. All she wanted to do was make sure he was ok. She was trying to take care of him. To help him. He had entrusted her with his most secret thoughts, and now he was afraid that she would use them to humiliate him. His pride was so fragile. And she had just torn it to shreds by involving Goku. She felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," she whispered.

He spat on the floor to show his contempt for her apology. Goku was still holding him even though he wasn't fighting anymore. He considered setting him down, but he was concerned about Bulma's well-being now more than his own. He knew how vengeful the prince could be.

"You've distracted me from my training long enough. Now let me go!" he barked.

Bulma nodded. "Goku, take him to the gravity chamber," she said dejectedly.

"No," he replied. Both Vegeta and Bulma looked at him incredulously.

"You heard that bitch," Vegeta growled, "now put me the fuck down!" Goku just shook his head and held onto his prince tighter.

"I can't do that. I need to make sure you won't hurt her first."

That was when there was a knock on the front door. Vegeta growled furiously when he recognized the ki signature just outside. He started struggling again, kicking and scratching at Goku's leg, but it wasn't enough. He heard someone opening the front door.

"Damnit, put me the fucking hell down right now or I swear I'm going to blast you all into the next dimension!" Vegeta screamed. He was clinging to what was left of his shredded pride which was about to disappear completely if that weakling fool saw him in this state.

Goku frowned. That was about as far from a promise not to hurt anyone as he could get. He endured the pain of the blows that managed to land on his body, refusing to let the furious prince go until he calmed down. His tail was wrapped around his arm again, squeezing as hard as it could. Though his hand was going numb, Goku held on valiantly.

The kitchen door opened. Vegeta wanted to die. Bulma cringed. Goku waved like a fool with his free hand.

"B, what the hell is this?" he slammed a newspaper on the table in front of Bulma.

"Uh, Yamcha, this isn't a good time…"

Seeing his captor's distraction, Vegeta twisted so he could see Goku's unprotected gut. He raised his hands over his head, clenched his fists together, and slammed them into the other saiyan's stomach. He was immediately dropped to the floor as Goku's arms flew to his stomach. He was doubled over and gasping for air. Vegeta landed cleanly on his hands and feet, bristled tail twitching violently behind him.

The motion caught Yamcha's attention, but it happened so fast he only caught the very end of the exchange. He looked at the two saiyans in confusion and turned back to Bulma for an explanation. It looked like neither of them was in any state to answer his questions.

"Get the fuck out of here," a gruff voice snarled from behind him. Yamcha turned. Vegeta was still snarling and he looked ready to pounce like a tiger. His teeth were bared and his canines looked inhumanly long and sharp at that moment. The feral look in his eyes just added to his animalistic appearance.

Yamcha staggered backwards until he slammed into the wall behind him. 'What the hell is his problem?' he wondered frantically. He looked to Goku for help, but he was still down for the count. He didn't want to drag Bulma into this. What were his options? Fight, and probably die, ignore the saiyan and probably die, or run like hell and have a slight chance of living.

He chose option three. He lunged for the door and was gone in the blink of an eye. Vegeta turned his burning gaze back to the blue-haired woman. She felt like she was being eaten alive under his stare. She couldn't even bear to look at him.

Meanwhile, Goku had finally recovered from the unexpected blow. With a soft groan of pain, he stood up straight again and glared at the prince who was still on the floor next to him. He was just glad that he hadn't made a move to hurt Yamcha or Bulma. He certainly could pack a punch, especially when his opponent's guard was down.

"Vegeta, don't you dare hurt her," Goku warned when he saw where the prince was looking.

Vegeta spat again. "Hurt her? What would be the fucking point? There is no honor in destroying an adversary who is so weak they have to use humiliation as their best weapon and lies to lure their enemy into trusting them. I hate her, but it serves my purposes to keep her alive, so long as she fixes my training equipment and provides me with nourishment."

Goku's shoulders sagged. He knew that he could trust Vegeta's word for the most part. He had to be careful not to be taken in by his ability to twist words around, but he knew that in actuality he never lied. Apparently, it was some kind of honor code he held himself to. Yet, he was not content to know that Vegeta would simply not hurt Bulma. They were supposed to fall in love and conceive Trunks. Right now it looked like that was not going to happen.

Vegeta finally calmed himself down and pushed himself up onto his feet, wrapping his tail around his waist. "Go home, Kakarrot," he ordered. Then he walked to the kitchen table and sat down to eat the breakfast that was still waiting for him. He wanted to leave for the sake of not having to see the woman in front of him, but he was desperately clinging to what little pride he had left and would not retreat.

Bulma spoke up when Goku raised his fingers to his forehead. "Goku, could you please stay a while? I want to talk to you about something."

He nodded. "I'll go wait in the living room."

Sighing, Bulma looked down at the table when she saw the newspaper that Yamcha had thrown at her. It was open to the page that had all the latest celebrity gossip, and right in the middle of the page was a large color picture of her with Vegeta on the beach. The headline read 'Who is CC Heiress Bulma Brief's New Man?' She groaned and dropped her head to the table, banging it gently over and over. "My life could not get any worse," she muttered.

Vegeta grew irritated with her behavior after a while. He grabbed the newspaper and scanned over the picture and article before throwing it back at her and curtly said, "Stop your bitching."

He pushed his dirty plates away and stood up, nearly knocking his chair over backwards. Without another word, he left the kitchen and went upstairs to get changed before going out to the gravity chamber to train.

Bulma watched him go and got up when she heard him on the stairs. She was on the verge of crying by the time she got to the living room and sat on the couch next to Goku. His head was hanging and his hands were resting in his lap. She could tell that something was bothering him, and she thought that maybe it was the same thing that was upsetting her.

She spoke softly, "Goku, I'm sorry I dragged you into this." She rested her hand on one of his and squeezed gently.

He shook his head before answering, "It's ok, Bulma. I know you were just worried about him. I would have been too, I guess. He still doesn't look very good."

"I know. But maybe I should have just left him alone. He can handle himself."

"No, I think you were right to try to help. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think he just needs someone to look after him because he won't take care of himself. He's stubborn, but he's not really that bad, you know?"

Bulma nodded. She knew what he said was true. She felt that way herself. The lump in her throat returned with a vengeance and this time she couldn't swallow it away. "It's just, I've never seen him like that, Goku. He was, I don't think he was really here. He was _scared_," she whispered.

Goku turned to look at his friend. He could see the guilt in her watery blue eyes. "I know. I think what happened triggered a memory of something horrible."

They stopped talking when they heard heavy footsteps coming downstairs. They listened as they moved down the hall and heard the front door open and slam closed. Soon after the hum of the gravity chamber could be heard from outside.

Bulma couldn't hold her tears back any longer. She buried her face in Goku's shoulder and twisted her hands in his gi. "Oh, Goku, he's been so hurt! He told me some things last night. I could hardly bear to listen. He's broken, Goku, completely broken inside. I want to help him but I know he won't let me," she sobbed. "And now I've broken whatever trust he had placed in me and he'll hate me for the rest of his life."

Goku frowned and rubbed her back somewhat awkwardly. He already knew that Vegeta had a terrible life. When the prince died at the hands of Frieza, he learned just a few of the horrible things Frieza had done. When he was about to give up in his fight, Vegeta spoke to him in a vision and urged him to get revenge for his people. He realized then that there was so much more to the proud prince than he ever let on. He was dealing with unimaginable hurt all his life and he never had anyone to share it with.

"I know, Bulma. I know."

"I like him. I. I feel safe with him. And we had so much fun together the past few days. I think I might care for him, in some way," she confessed.

Finally Goku smiled. Maybe there was some hope for them yet. "Don't worry about Vegeta, he'll come around. I think he just needs some time to cool off. If he really hated you he wouldn't have left without trying to hurt you at least a little bit."

Bulma raised her head to fix her eyes on Goku's. There was that same blackness, but none of the pain, cruelty, distrust, and rage burning in them. His eyes had never seen the horrors that Vegeta's had. He was still innocent and pure. So different despite their similarities.

She nodded. "Do you think he's really not sick?"

Goku felt out for Vegeta's ki. That would surely give him some clue as to what Vegeta's physical condition was. There it was. He honed in on it and felt his ki flaring in erratic patterns, like water rushing behind a dam. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Vegeta's ki was so much higher than it had been just days ago. The jump in power was almost frightening.

"I can't tell, Bulma. Something seems to be wrong with his ki, but I don't think it's because he's sick. It's like he just has so much power his body can't contain it."

"Excess energy," she whispered. Vegeta had been telling the truth.

Inside the gravity chamber, Vegeta turned the gravity up to 300Gs, but it still wasn't enough. He went through his kata with ease and was growing frustrated with the agitation he felt, like his muscles were overloaded with energy and couldn't find release. He went to the gravity console and turned it up to 350Gs. The jump in gravity hardly fazed him and he went through his training routine again.

He lowered his ki to make it harder to withstand the intense gravity as he moved, hoping that would burn some of his energy faster. He fired a ki ball and the training bots bounced them around at incredible speeds. He flipped and dodged around it with ease, his movements not at all hindered by the gravity.

"What will it take to release this energy?" he roared in frustration. A blue aura erupted around him and grew as his ki raised exponentially. He felt like his veins were filled with fire as he raised his ki higher and higher. He didn't even notice with the gravity chamber started shaking and the training bots crumpled under the pressure. He screamed and released his energy, the shockwave blowing the chamber apart, fragments of it crashing into the compound.

Goku sat up in alarm when he felt Vegeta's ki rising too rapidly. He knew it was dangerous. If he wasn't able to gain control of his power, the energy might tear his body apart and kill him. Suddenly, after another huge burst of power, pieces of metal crashed through the window. Bulma screamed and Goku threw up a ki barrier to protect them from the debris flying through the air.

Through the broken window they could hear Vegeta's screams, his voice scratchy from the extended stress his vocal cords were experiencing. Goku grabbed Bulma and ran to the window and jumped out into the yard where he saw Vegeta floating in the air, an enormous blue fire raging around his body.

'He's going to do it,' Goku thought, 'he's going to reach super saiyan.' Silently he urged Vegeta on.

Vegeta writhed in pain as the energy coursing through him burned like acid. He had to find an outlet for it soon or it would destroy him. He was unable to form any ki attacks because his concentration would not allow for it, the pain was too distracting. His anger rose. He had never felt such rage, so hot it was eating away at him. He curled up into a ball and with one more feral roar, stretch his arms and legs out in one quick movement, sending his ki out in waves around him.

He felt something release at the core of his body. Something just broke down, a barrier that had been holding his energy back. The dam crumbled and power like he had never felt ran through him.

Goku's smile widened when Vegeta's hair flashed to gold, his eyes became a deep teal, and his aura glowed around him in a fire of gold. He had done it, finally. And his power was still rising. It seemed to have no limit.

The surge of power was invigorating. It was thrilling. It gave him a rush like nothing he had ever experienced before. His fury burned hotter and he almost thought he would lose control of his mind, but he was able to reel it in. He panted and looked down at the ground where he saw that fool Kakarrot smiling at him proudly and the blue-haired woman gaping at him.

He saw the yellow flames of ki around him and he realized what happened. He smirked. His smirk grew into a feral grin. He threw his head back and laughed. He laughed in joy, triumph, insanity. He roared with laughter until his sides hurt and still he couldn't stop. It had finally happened! He reached the legendary! His golden tail waved behind him, whipping around in euphoria.

Recovering from her shock, Bulma's face broke out into a huge grin and she started jumping in excitement. "Vegeta, you did it! You're a super saiyan!" she screamed for all the world to hear.

Vegeta kept laughing maniacally, joy muddling with rage and surprise. As he doubled over in laughter, two small dots in the sky grew rapidly closer, turning into a tall green man and a small black-haired boy. They had felt the tremendous increase in Vegeta's ki and came to see if there was trouble. They landed next to Bulma and Goku and looked on in astonishment. Vegeta was hovering in the air, glowing gold.

"So, he finally did it," came Piccolo's stoic response to the scene playing before them.

"Yes! He did it! He did it!" Bulma cheered and hugged Goku tightly.

Vegeta saw that there were two more faces watching him from below. He had finally risen to claim his place as Prince of all Saiyans once again. His rage simmered down and he flexed his muscles, growing used to the new feeling of power coursing through him. It was radical. He never felt so alive.

His arrogance had grown to match his power and he couldn't resist flaunting his newfound strength. He clenched his fists and concentrated on raising his ki as far as he could. The air around him blew around violently as his aura flared higher into the sky. He yelled as his ki skyrocketed.

The others looked on in a cross between fear and admiration. "I have never felt anything like this," Piccolo gasped.

Gohan raised his arm to shield his eyes from the wind whipping around them. His hair was blown back and he, like the others, was having trouble staying grounded. He yelled over the wind, "Is he stronger than you, Dad?"

Goku had been wondering the same thing. His original pride in the prince's accomplishment was starting to give way to worry. Who knew what Vegeta would do if he found himself strong enough to defeat him and the others? Would he decide to abandon his decision to help defeat the androids and just blow the world up instead? "I don't know, Gohan," he answered honestly. He wrapped his arm around Bulma to keep her from being knocked down by the force of Vegeta's power.

After what seemed like an eternity, Vegeta's ki leveled off and he unclenched his fists. His aura died around him as he finished powering up and he looked at the others smugly. Then, he spoke. "I probably should thank you fools. If you hadn't pissed me off so badly I might not have been able to tap into my true power."

Goku grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Gee, Vegeta, you think so?"

He snorted. "Yes, Kakarrot." He lowered himself to the ground and stood before the others proudly.

Bulma couldn't help herself. She threw herself at Vegeta and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his face all over. Even with his new speed and strength, Vegeta was unable to react. "Vegeta, I am so, so, _so _proud of you! Oh my Kami, you did it!" she said between kisses.

Once he realized what was going on, he frowned and pulled the ecstatic woman off of him. "This changes nothing, Woman," he told her in a low voice.

"But Vegeta."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear any more from you. I will _not_ share this achievement with you. It is _mine_. Nothing I do is of any concern to you, you stupid bitch!" he shouted.

Bulma shrank back from him and leaned against Goku for support. Piccolo looked from Vegeta to Goku, concern in his eyes. They exchanged glances, each thinking the same thing. Had history somehow changed to cause a rift between these two so Trunks would never be born?

"Now fix the gravity chamber. I need to continue training," he sniffed as he flew away.

Gohan looked at Bulma. "Where did he go?"

"I really have no idea."

Piccolo and Goku exchanged glances again. Neither thought that it was a good idea to leave Vegeta unattended in his new state. He could do a world of damage with the flick of his wrist, and it probably wouldn't take much for him to want to do so. Both took off into the sky to follow Vegeta. Goku called out behind him, "Stay with Bulma, Gohan! And tell your mother what's going on!"

Gohan could barely hear the last words his father said as they got caught in the wind between them. He looked up at Bulma and shrugged one shoulder. "That was interesting."

Bulma nearly laughed. Talk about an understatement. "Yeah, it certainly was." She put her arm around the boy's shoulders and led him back into the compound. Mrs. Brief was in the living room whimpering about the damage that had been done to their beautiful home. Bulma rolled her eyes and tried to calm her down, "Mom, it's ok, we can just call a contractor to repair the damage."

The blonde woman took a deep breath to calm down and nodded sadly before running back into the kitchen to cook. It was a good stress reliever for her.

Bulma pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to Gohan. "Better call your mom. If I know her she'll be freaking out about you guys' sudden disappearance."

The boy grimaced as he took the phone and dialed his house. He was not looking forward to his mother's reaction to the recent events he witnessed.

When he hung up, he handed the phone back to Bulma, who was paging through a West City phone book. She flipped her phone open and dialed the number of a contractor who advertised his speedy repairs. After a brief conversation that involved her throwing her name around a few times, she hung up and smiled. "He'll be over this afternoon to repair the house," she said proudly. There were many benefits to being rich.

With his incredible speed, Vegeta pulled far ahead of the two men following him. He knew they were trying to keep up with him, but he didn't care. It was enjoyable seeing them struggle just to keep him within range where they could sense his ki. He smirked and flew faster.

Goku and Piccolo were getting frustrated with the chase. They were well aware that he was trying to lose them. Growing tired, Piccolo shouted to Goku, "Why don't you just turn super saiyan and tail him? I can find the others and tell them what's going on and to stay alert for any trouble he might cause."

Goku nodded and with a short yell a golden aura burst up around him. He turned up the heat and flashed across the sky with a new surge of speed. He wouldn't be able to catch up to Vegeta, but at least he could keep up with him in that state.

Piccolo flew off to the north to find Tien and Chaotzu first. He hoped that Vegeta wouldn't be any trouble, but it would be foolish to trust him.

Vegeta was laughing at the ease with which he could fly at speeds well beyond the sound barrier. A sonic boom followed in his wake along with a cloud of dust as he flew over a desert area. He saw a highway down below and decided to have a little fun with the humans.

He slowed down and flew down to the highway, flying alongside it. At first, he stayed even with a semi trailer and smirked when the driver looked over and almost swerved off the road when he saw a man flying next to his truck. Laughing, Vegeta made a small ki ball and threw it into the trailer, causing an explosion that engulfed the entire vehicle.

He flew to the middle of the highway and weaved around the cars and trucks, causing the drivers to panic and swerve to the sides, slam on the brakes, and crash into other cars. 'Fools,' Vegeta thought, 'they're so easy to scare. And then they react in the stupidest possible way and end up killing themselves and others. They have no survival instinct at all.' He laughed again and turned into a ninety degree ascent into the air. He flew higher and higher until he was far above the clouds and the atmosphere was thin.

When he could hardly breathe, he stopped using his ki to support himself and he began to freefall back down to the Earth. He twisted so he was falling head first, arms held at his sides to make himself more aerodynamic. He fell faster and faster, the cold wind whipping against his face. He smiled and inhaled deeply, the weightless feeling washing over him with a rush of adrenaline.

He smirked as he neared the ground and, when he was mere inches from the ground, blasted his ki under him and swooped back into the air, laughing insanely. He shot off to the east, a gold spiral left in his wake.

Goku watched Vegeta's antics angrily. He stopped to help the people who had been in crashes because of him flying down the highway. Once they were pulled to safety on the side of the road, he looked up to see Vegeta plummeting toward the earth. He was about to intervene when he feared that the prince had somehow lost consciousness and was going to die from the impact. But there was no need. He emerged unscathed from a cloud of dust and flew off, quickly disappearing from sight. He sighed and took off into the air again, once again giving chase to the dangerously powerful madman.

Meanwhile, Piccolo had located Tien and had told him that Vegeta, now a super saiyan, was more unpredictable than ever and might try to kill people or destroy anything, possibly the planet, and to stay on the lookout for him. After issuing his warning, Piccolo headed towards Kame house to let Krillin know the potential danger.

Vegeta had been flying nonstop for hours and still he showed no signs of slowing down. Goku stayed on his trail, but he was losing energy and subsequently speed. He wouldn't be able to keep up much longer. They had been around the globe countless times, but thankfully Vegeta had not caused anymore mayhem after the incident on the highway.

Without warning, Vegeta stopped in midair and dropped, landing on the top of a narrow tower of rock. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Goku nearly flew right past him, but saw him on time to descend to hover in the air near Vegeta at eye level.

"I was wondering, Kakarrot, if you'd like a spar," Vegeta said nonchalantly as he inspected his knuckles, stretching his fingers out and turning his hand from side to side. "You have been following me around for most of the day, after all, I figure you must want something."

Goku's stomach nearly dropped out of his feet. A spar? Now? His energy was waning and Vegeta wasn't even winded. Probably he had meant to wear the younger saiyan out before offering to spar with him, intending to defeat him horribly with his bottomless well of power. Or at least, that's what Goku suspected.

When he received no response, he added smugly, "That is, unless you're afraid of being put in your place, third class."

Goku narrowed his eyes. Vegeta knew how to strike a nerve with him. Even if he had been raised human, he still had the ego of a saiyan. He didn't like anyone insinuating he was weak or afraid of a good challenge. He quickly tried to think his way out of a painful defeat that could have dire consequences for the planet. He snorted. "Spar with you? You only want to spar now because you're a super saiyan. You know you'd have no chance against me in your base state."

"Fool, I could defeat you in any state. But right now I want to test the limits of my new abilities. Don't tell me you're scared," he added patronizingly.

His plan to talk Vegeta out of fighting as a super saiyan having failed, Goku tried to think of another way out. But nothing came to mind, so he had no choice but to agree to the prince's terms. Technically he could have chosen to not spar, but he didn't consider that option.

Goku smirked. "Fine, then. I'll defeat you as a super saiyan." He powered up and took his fighting stance as he watched Vegeta get into his. Both were flawless. Both would be near impossible to break through. Both relished the challenge.

They flew toward each other in the same instant, the force of Vegeta's takeoff crumbling the tower of rock he had been standing on. They exchanged blindingly fast punches and kicks, blocking perfectly so that after five minutes, neither had yet landed a blow on his opponent.

The saiyans pulled back and appraised each other. "That was a nice warm up, Kakarrot, but are you ready to fight for real?"

Goku's eyes widened. He had barely been holding back, having thought it would be best to skip the warm up and get the fight over with as soon as possible. He frowned and resumed his stance.

Vegeta smirked and instead of defending himself, opened his arms, leaving himself vulnerable, and gestured for Goku to bring it on. Taking the opportunity, Goku rushed forward and swung his arm back readying his punch, but before he could blink Vegeta had raised his hands over his head and, much like he had done that morning, clenched his fists together and brought them down hard on Goku's head.

Goku slammed into the ground far below, creating a crater around his body. He rose to his hands and knees and shook his spinning head. Once his blurred vision cleared, he looked up and barely had time to jump out of the way as Vegeta's foot dug into the ground where he had just been.

Vegeta pulled his foot out of the ground and executed a flawless back flip before rushing forward to slam his fist into Goku's chest. But, his fist only hit Goku's forearm as he blocked the blow. His knee came up and met Vegeta's leg as he blocked and pulled back.

Their auras flared up higher as they rose into the air and met again in hand to hand combat. Vegeta got a solid uppercut on Goku's jaw at the same time Goku's heel dug into Vegeta's unguarded side. Being the first to recover, Goku roundhouse kicked Vegeta on the side of his head and sent him skidding across the ground.

Vegeta threw his feet over his head and dug his heels into the ground to stop himself. He growled and jumped back into the air and phased behind Goku and elbowed him hard between the shoulders and caught him on his knee before he could fall. The force of the blows knocked the air out of Goku's lungs. He grabbed Vegeta's leg and swung him around a few times before launching him into the side of a mountain.

Goku watched, panting, as the rocks that had fallen on the prince exploded in a flash of gold. He blocked his face from the light with his arm, which he realized was not a good move when two fists crashed into his stomach and pounded into him repeatedly.

Unable to defend himself, Goku grabbed Vegeta's waist and threw him down into the ground again. He wrapped his arms around his aching stomach and gasped for air. He coughed up some blood and groaned in pain.

Vegeta landed on his feet and launched himself back into the air, flying past Goku. He stopped above him and flew down full speed and elbowed him in the back of the neck, knocking him back to his base state. His gold hair faded to black and his teal eyes turned pitch black.

The victorious prince snorted as his opponent slipped into unconsciousness and hit the ground hard. He slowly lowered himself to the ground beside Goku's body. He grabbed his wrist and, lifting him up into the air, snarled in disgust.

"Useless third class trash, I should kill you now. But there would be no honor in that. I want you at your best before I beat you slowly, making you beg for death."

He smirked, and still holding Goku's wrist, blasted into the sky back to West City.

_A/N: Three cheers for Vegeta. He's finally a super saiyan! And… stronger than Goku? Of course. This is my AU where Vegeta can be the strongest because, well, he's better. :D And showing some signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He does meet all the criteria…_

_And can I just say thank you to my faithful reviewers? You're always encouraging, and it makes me eager to post the next chapter._

_Song: "Glorious #1" by Remy Zero_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Could this be out of line?  
To say you're the only one breaking me down like this  
You're the only one I would take a shot on  
Keep me hanging on so contagiously_

Back at Capsule Corporation, the z-fighters gathered after Piccolo warned them about Vegeta's ascension to super saiyan. They would have been thrilled if any of them trusted him. Sure he had said that he would help defeat the androids, but he might have changed his mind by now. Especially if he was as powerful as Piccolo said. Stronger than Goku as a super saiyan. It was unbelievable.

They were sitting in the back yard since the living room was currently under construction. Bulma had little to say to any of the fighters. Whereas she had initially been overjoyed that Vegeta reached his goal, now she was feeling depressed that he was still unwilling to forgive her for betraying his trust. It had seemed like an innocent enough thing to do at the time, but she hadn't honestly put much consideration into how it would affect his pride. And his pride meant a lot to him, maybe more than anything else, even power.

So now Tien, Chiaotzu, Yamcha, Gohan, Piccolo, and Krillin were sitting in lawn chairs sipping the lemonade Mrs. Brief made for them and discussing what they would do if Vegeta reverted back to his original plan to kill Goku and destroy the earth. Despite her pain, Bulma couldn't help but feel that they were overreacting. Vegeta had changed since he first came to Earth. He was still unstable, but not completely insane as he had been before.

Bulma wasn't even listening to their discussion anymore. She was frustrated with their lack of confidence in the prince's word. He was many things, but a liar was not one of them. She wished he would hurry up and come back. She was eager to try and patch things up between them even though she had no idea how to even start. She looked up when she heard one of the fighters exclaim, "It's unreal! You weren't kidding Piccolo!"

She saw that it was Krillin who had said that. She rolled her eyes. He was always the one to state the obvious. Still, her interest was piqued when the men around her stood and shielded their eyes with their hands to look up at the sky toward the west since the sun was getting low.

"What is it?" she asked, standing next to Yamcha and trying to see what they were watching.

"Vegeta's coming back. It feels like Goku…" he trailed off.

Finally, she could see two dots on the horizon growing fast. Before a minute had passed she could make out Vegeta carrying what must have been Goku. She gasped and held her breath as she waited for the prince to land.

When he was above the crowd of warriors, Vegeta stopped and dropped straight down, landing softly before them. He threw Goku's body toward them and Piccolo caught him by the back of his gi. He raised his hand to check the saiyan's pulse and was relieved to find that he was just unconscious, probably not too seriously injured.

Yamcha was the first to speak. "What did you do to him, you monster?"

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. He answered, "We had ourselves a little spar. As you can see, I defeated him."

Bulma smiled slightly. While she did feel bad that Goku had been beaten badly, she was happy that Vegeta had partially reclaimed the pride that had been stolen from him earlier.

"So you decided to have a party and didn't invite me, Woman?" Vegeta asked sarcastically. He looked down his nose at the other warriors and sneered.

Bulma's heart jumped. She could have _sworn_ he was teasing her and not just being an ass. "Well, actually, your highness, you're the guest of honor," she said and winked.

She thought she saw a trace of amusement pass through his eyes before he snorted and turned away. "Whatever. Where is my new gravity chamber?"

Refusing to lose hope, she answered, "Sorry, 'Geta, but it's not done. You kind of blew the other one up. I have to build a new one from scratch, you big jerk."

His tail unwound from his waist and flicked back and forth. He turned to face her again and gazed into her deep cerulean eyes. He was impressed that she was actually standing up to him even in his new transformation. She had to be insane, it was the only explanation.

She added, "You know you look good as a blonde." When his eyes widened in astonishment at her boldness, she couldn't help but giggle.

He responded, "I always look good, Woman." With that he turned and walked into the compound. No one dared to follow him as they gaped at Bulma, wondering how she had the courage to talk to the surly prince that way. She put her hands on her hips and huffed haughtily.

"That jerk is so full of himself." She sat back down in her chair and sipped at her lemonade as if nothing unusual happened.

"I really cannot stand that saiyan," Tien grumbled as he likewise returned to his seat.

"I second that," Yamcha stated.

Piccolo laid Goku's unconscious body on the grass and looked over him to make sure there were no serious wounds. There was a multitude of scrapes and bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal within the next day or so. Gohan knelt down next to his father and placed his hands on his chest, shaking him gently.

"Come on, Dad, wake up."

The others, having entirely forgotten the sad state of their leader, turned their attention to Goku as he started to regain consciousness. After a while he groaned and slowly sat up, resting his weight back on his hands. "Man, feels like I got hit by a train."

"You're lucky if that's all the worse it is. You did kind of get in a fight with Vegeta," Krillin informed his friend in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Goku laughed a little until his aching ribs made him stop.

Inside, Vegeta raided the refrigerator. He hadn't eaten since his late breakfast and it was already evening. He laid the food out on the kitchen table and sat down to eat, once again not caring if it were cooked or not. The elder Briefs had left that afternoon, the blonde one being too hysterical because of the damage to the house to stay while it was repaired.

Vegeta tore into a large roast beef, the blood dripping down his chin as he chewed. He was halfway done with it when Gohan walked into the kitchen to return the empty lemonade pitcher and glasses. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the prince sitting at the table.

Then his face contorted into disgust. "Ew, Vegeta, don't you even bother cooking your food before you eat it?" he asked before he could hold his tongue.

Vegeta swallowed the meat he had been chewing and turned to glare at the boy. He took another big bite of raw meat before answering. "Boy, I am a saiyan. I do not need my food to be cooked, though it is generally preferable." A sly smiled crept across his face as he ripped off a piece of the meat and tossed it to Gohan and barked, "Here, eat it, boy."

Gohan caught the meat and looked at it in revulsion. It was cold and bloody. Gross. He looked up at Vegeta with an expression of confused disbelief. "Why?"

"You're part saiyan boy, I bet you would actually kind of like it. It's good for a saiyan to have a little blood in his diet," he grinned evilly and took another bite of meat.

"I'm fine, thanks," Gohan said before trying to hand the piece of meat back to the prince.

Vegeta chuckled darkly. A saiyan trying to deny himself what he needed instinctually? Sure he was only a demi-saiyan, but the human blood could not dilute his saiyan drives completely. Vegeta took the meat and held it up to Gohan's mouth, the smell of blood wafting up to his nose.

"Eat it, boy," Vegeta commanded. He could see Gohan's resolve wavering as his pupils dilated and a low sound similar to a growl could be heard in his throat.

Gohan took the meat from Vegeta's hand and stuffed it in his mouth, delighting in the taste of blood as he chewed. He swallowed and immediately grabbed another piece of meat from the table and started tearing into it, blood running down his chin and hands as he ate ravenously.

Vegeta growled when Gohan reached for another piece of meat from the table and put his arm around it protectively. "Get your own, _boy_," he spat.

The door opened. "Hey Gohan, you in here?" It was Goku, no doubt looking for his son to take him back home before his wife had an aneurysm.

He stopped when he saw the two saiyans eating at the table. "Gohan, what are you doing?" he asked slowly.

When asked, Gohan looked as if he had just woken from a trance. He looked down at his bloody hands and then back up at his father. "I, um. I was hungry, I guess. So I was eating," he answered meekly. Vegeta started laughing at the boy's embarrassment.

"Oh come on, boy, you were giving into your saiyan side and eating some raw meat. It's only natural."

Goku looked perplexed. What did eating raw meat have to do with being saiyan? "What do you mean Vegeta?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back from the table, licking the blood from his hands. Goku shuddered when he smirked, revealing a slightly elongated canine. His mind kept going back to when the prince had told him that he was more animalistic than other saiyans. Proof was standing right in front of him.

"Don't tell me you've never craved blood, Kakarrot." Vegeta crossed the room and grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter and bit into it.

"Uh, no, I don't think I have."

Vegeta sniffed. "You pathetic fool. Your son is more of a saiyan than you are. It amazes me." With that, he walked out of the living room and into the adjacent dining room. He swallowed the rest of his apple and took in his surroundings as he walked through it. Then he stopped in his tracks.

How had he missed those before? He glanced over his shoulder and sensed out all the nearby ki signatures. None of them were in the house except Kakarrot and his brat, and they were walking down the hall toward the door. Walking to the dining room table, he pulled the chairs out one at a time and ripped the cushions off.

Looking back to make sure nothing was out of place, he ran out of the room with six cushions tucked under his arms. He didn't stop running until he had gone upstairs and into his bedroom. The pile of blankets and pillows was still on the floor next to the bed. He dropped the cushions on the pile and looked quite satisfied with himself.

Since he gave up sleeping in his bed, he had been systematically collecting all the pillows and cushions available throughout the compound to add to his bedding. Now he had a few more. It was nothing compared to the r'udhari he had back on Vegeta-sei, but it was closer to it than the bed he was given. Saiyans did not have _beds_, at least not in the human sense of the term. They preferred nesting in a collection of soft materials, often using animal skins and scraps of cloth. The royal family had the finest materials similar to silk and the skins of the softest animals from all over the galaxy. That way they had less restricted space in which packs of saiyans could sleep together, and they generally preferred the firmness of the ground anyway.

Now that he was no longer a soldier in Frieza's army, he intended to sleep like a saiyan should. Not on an impossibly uncomfortable cot and not on some irritatingly squishy bed. He was making himself a r'udhari, or nest.

Vegeta caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above his dresser and stopped, somewhat startled by his reflection. His hair was still a brilliant gold and his eyes were a blue-green. He hardly recognized himself. His tail unwrapped from around his waist and he took it in his hands and carefully inspected it. The silky fur was a matching gold, each individual hair brilliantly reflecting the light. He stroked his tail slowly and smiled.

He was overcome with the same sense of relief he experienced every time he remembered when he found that it had grown back. When he returned to Planet Frieza 12 to get medical attention after his first battle on Earth, he had feared that his tail was gone for good, since it was rare for an adult saiyan's tail to ever regrow. But there was still a stub where that slobbish samurai had cut it off and the wound was still raw. For once he was thankful that saiyan tails take much longer to heal than the rest of their bodies.

In the rejuvenation tank, the artificial saiyan DNA had repaired all the damage to his body, including his tail. It grew back as good as new. He had pet it continuously for much of the trip from that planet to Namek, just trying to reassure himself that it was really there. Not having his tail, even for a short time, was more intolerable than it would have been to have lost an arm.

Vegeta still had a lot of energy, but he did not know how to use it. The gravity chamber was gone, he had already sparred with Kakarrot, and there was no one else on the planet who could last even a minute in a fight against him. He looked out the window and saw that all of the earthling warriors had left except that fool weakling, who appeared to be having a heated debate with the blue-haired woman.

He opened the door to his balcony and walked out. He could hear them screaming at each other about him. Apparently, that fool was concerned about Bulma having romantic interest in him because of that stupid article in the newspaper he had seen that morning.

"Get real, Yamcha! I do not have a crush on Vegeta! If I did I wouldn't still be dating you and I'd be putting the moves on him," Bulma shrieked, flailing her arms in aggravation.

"Then why the hell have you been spending so much time with him? You won't even go out on a date with me but you'll spend the whole fucking day with that murderer!"

"Maybe it's because I _like_ spending time with him, you idiot!" she yelled back, her face flushing red in anger. "Excuse me for wanting to have fun with him when he was actually willing to stop training for a while. It doesn't exactly happen very often."

Yamcha's response was softer as he tried to reason with his girlfriend. "You can't trust him, Bulma."

She sighed and crossed one arm over her chest while resting her forehead in her other hand. He just brought up the same argument that came up every time they had any discussion relating to her saiyan houseguest. "I know that, Yamcha. I'm fucking terrified of him, but at the same time I like him. I care about him." Her voice too had softened. She sounded tired.

Vegeta thought that maybe they had been arguing for quite some time about this. He quirked an eyebrow when he heard her say that. The fool. She didn't trust him, yet she liked being with him? But her last statement got him wandering in unfamiliar territory in his mind again. She didn't know he was listening, but she still insisted that she cared about him. And she was telling her mate, no less. Did that mean it was true? Maybe she really had just been trying to do what she thought was best for him that morning. Maybe she hadn't lied to him last night.

He snarled quietly. He didn't want to think about these things. 'Emotions are for the weak,' he told himself, 'and trusting or depending on anyone else is a liability a warrior cannot risk. It does not matter to me if she cares about me or not because I do not care about her.' Having cleared that problem up, so he thought, he jumped over the rail of the balcony and landed with a soft thud in the grass.

The feuding lovers didn't hear him as he approached silently, staying in the shadows of the building. When he was only a few yards away from them, he started growling. The weakling was hugging the woman tightly and his hands were sliding inappropriately low on her back. But she didn't seem to mind. Her arms were around his neck and their faces were very close. Maybe touching. He couldn't tell from where he stood.

He heard the woman moan softly and she pushed her body against the weakling's. 'What in Kami's name are they doing?' he wondered in disgust. He growled louder and crept out of the shadows into plain view. They broke apart when they heard the low rumbling sound and turned to look for its source.

"Vegeta? What are you doing out here?" The woman turned around to face him as she nervously smoothed her clothes out.

He sneered. "How many times do you have to kick this creature out before it stops coming back?"

"Hey! You have no right to kick me out of here, monkey. This is Bulma's house and you're her guest. I can't for the life of me understand why she doesn't kick _you_ out on your ass. You're not good enough to stay here with her and you treat her like shit. She's not your servant, jackass!" Yamcha knew that he was getting into dangerous territory with his words, but at the moment he really couldn't care less. He was sick and tired of the saiyan thinking that he could just push him around because he was stronger. 'FYI,' he told Vegeta mentally, 'she loves me and wants me around. She cares about you, but that means nothing. She cares about everyone and everything. You're nothing more than a project!' He grinned when he thought of that.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow. "Care to share what you're thinking in that puny little brain of yours?"

That knocked the wind out of his sails. He tried to hide his distress by shooting back, "Why would I bother? Your monkey brain couldn't understand it. The only thing you know is fighting, and that's not much."

"Oh? And I suppose you think you could best me in a fight?" Vegeta was starting to get excited. Maybe he could goad this fool into fighting and he could 'accidentally' kill him!

Yamcha knew he had stuck his foot where his mouth is. There was no way he could back out of this without looking like a coward. But damnit, he really valued his life! He'd already lost it to that monster once. Well, indirectly.

Up to that point Bulma had been silent, but she knew what Vegeta was trying to do and wasn't about to let it happen. She stood between the men and held her arms out as if to erect an impenetrable barrier as she shouted, "Stop it, you guys! You're acting like a couple of brats."

Vegeta stepped closer to her until they were only inches apart, an expression of scorn marring his princely features. He grabbed her arms roughly and flicked his tongue over his canine. "Trying to protect your mate, wench? Pathetic. Don't tell me he's gotten so weak he has to rely on a pitiful creature such as yourself to save him from battles he walks into blindly." The unmistakable bloodlust in his eyes was terrifying.

Bulma's face blanched as she put her hands on Vegeta's chest and tried to push him away from her. "Let go of me, you jerk!" she screamed. As she pushed against his chest he released her and she fell backwards as if she had just pushed her whole weight against a brick wall. She stumbled back a few steps before Yamcha caught her.

Vegeta's tail unwound from his waist and flicked behind him as he smirked at the pair of humans. He crossed his arms again, as if daring Yamcha to make a move. He knew he had struck a nerve when he saw the weakling trembling in suppressed rage.

"You leave her out of this!" he yelled and started powering up.

Vegeta yawned. "Out of what?" he asked, "Do you really intend to fight me, Weakling? You have no chance." He clenched his fists as if to power up, but instead his hair and eyes returned to black.

Yamcha looked surprised. Vegeta rolled his eyes as he explained, "Do you _want_ to fight me as a super saiyan? I'm just trying to even the odds, if only slightly."

"Don't patronize me, saiyan!"

Vegeta raised his eyebrow again and waited for the other fighter to make a move. He was obviously still reluctant to fight, but the cocky bastard was probably trying to give himself a pep talk and make himself believe he actually had a chance. Or that's what Vegeta guessed, anyway.

And he was right.

Bulma grabbed Yamcha's arm and tried to talk him out of it. "You know you can't win, Yam, don't make a fool of yourself. He's just trying to get to you!"

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder and saw that the workers who were repairing the damage to the compound were trying to subtly watch what was happening. No doubt all the screaming had caught their attention and they were dying for some entertainment while on the job. He snorted. Stupid humans. His tail flicked around slowly behind him as he waited for scar face to make up his mind.

"Bulma, just stay out of this. I can handle myself!" Yamcha said, pushing her back as he dropped into his fighting stance.

Finally. Vegeta smirked and wrapped his tail around his waist as he got into his stance. This wouldn't last long. If he was careful, he might be able to draw it out for two minutes. He heard the woman make a frustrated noise as she turned on her heel and stalked away to get to a safe distance from the fight.

With a battle cry, Yamcha lunged forward, swinging his fist at Vegeta's face. Vegeta caught his fist and threw him back. The earthling caught himself before he fell and barely dodged a kick aimed at his stomach. He grabbed Vegeta's leg, intending to use his momentum against him, and swung him around, but the saiyan anticipated his move and grabbed the arm that was holding him and twisted it, pulling his shoulder out of its socket.

Yamcha screamed in pain as he clutched his shoulder. "You'll pay for that!" he screamed. He was knocked to the ground as a foot connected with his back. He got back up quickly and whirled around to face the grinning saiyan prince. He raised his fist and slammed it into Vegeta's jaw.

The prince was unaffected by the blow other than his head being turned to the side. He turned to face his opponent and whispered, "That one was free, Weakling." That being said, he grabbed Yamcha's shoulders and bent him over as he forced his knee into his gut. He pushed him backwards and he fell onto the ground, gasping for air and coughing up blood.

Vegeta frowned. It had only been one minute. Tops. That was no fun at all. He looked down his nose at the other fighter as the woman came running over to tend to his wounds. He turned around to walk to an open area in the yard. He glared at the gawking construction workers and they quickly resumed what they were doing, trying to cover the fact they had watched the whole thing. Not that there had been much to watch.

He could hear the woman half shouting to the defeated warrior, "You big idiot! What did I tell you? You just made an ass of yourself because of your damned cockiness! It serves you right."

Vegeta chuckled and shook his head. That woman was something else. Completely insane, but at least it was entertaining. At least when her screams were directed at someone else.

He reached the open area and powered up to super saiyan again, noticing how much energy it drained to make the transformation. Perhaps the excess energy he had bottled up was finally starting to run dry. Shrugging, he began running through his kata.

Bulma watched him from where she was kneeling in the grass next to her boyfriend. She admired the elegance of his movements, so precise, smooth, graceful. She could see his muscles rippling under his skin with every move, sweat starting to glisten on his skin in the twilight. She noticed the intense concentration etched on his face and she felt a deep awe for his discipline. The only time she ever saw Yamcha training was when he was trying to impress her with his new moves. They seemed horribly pathetic and simplistic compared to what Vegeta was doing.

Vegeta started with his simpler kata as a warm up, but he had moved on to much more difficult ones, unaware of his small audience. Both Bulma and Yamcha were watching, along with several of the construction workers. Bulma smiled as she watched him using his tail for balance, which reminded her of a wild cat. His movements were beautiful to watch.

When he finished, he returned to his base state to conserve energy. He glanced over his shoulder to where Bulma was still sitting next to the weakling, who was whining about the pain he was in. Her eyes were on him though, hardly even paying attention to the man at her side. He felt the weight of her gaze and began to feel uncomfortable. Why did she look at him that way?

Vegeta walked over to the lovers and glared down at the man. "I think it's time you go," he growled and kicked him in the side, sending him a few feet in the air.

"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped and cringed when Yamcha hit the ground again. "Oh, no, Yamcha, are you ok?" she asked as she crawled over to where he landed.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" Yamcha spat at Vegeta.

Without a second of hesitation, he answered simply, "You."

"Fine," Yamcha said as he stood up, "I've had it with this shit. I'm outta here." He turned and forced his aching body forward, walking around the compound to leave.

"About fucking time," Vegeta muttered.

While they were been talking, the contractor cautiously made his way over to the group of people in the lawn. He was terrified of the flame-haired man, and honestly was pretty intimidated by the heiress herself. He saw the taller man get up and leave and hurried over before anything else happened. "Miss Brief, we've finished the repairs," he reported.

"Oh, thank Kami! Come inside and we'll work out your payment," she said as she led him into the compound. Vegeta watched her go and spat on the ground. What did she see in that stupid human? He was pathetic! He shook his head and, ignoring the stares of the workers, levitated up to his balcony and walked into his room. He went into the bathroom and kicked his shoes off and pulled his training shorts off before climbing into the shower. He turned the water up to the hottest setting and sighed contentedly as the hot water washed away the sweat, dirt, and blood that covered his tired muscles.

He stayed in there for over an hour before the water became too cold for his taste and he got out and wrapped a towel around his hips below his tail. He went into his room and pulled out the drawer where he kept his boxers, but it was empty. 'What is this? Is someone playing some kind of trick on me?' he thought in irritation. He could not _stand_ anything being out of place or ruining his routine.

He went through the rest of the drawers but found nothing. He didn't know what to do. So, he did what he always did when he did not find his accommodations adequate. "Woman!" he bellowed. The walls shook.

He stomped over to the door and opened it and roared again, "Woman!" There was still no answer. He sensed out her ki and marched downstairs and into the living room where he found her sitting in a recliner reading a book. "Woman, you will answer me when I call you," he growled.

She looked up from her book and furrowed her brows angrily. "Well if you'd call me by my _name_ then maybe I would answer!" she shouted back.

He scoffed. Not this again. "Whatever. Where is that fool mother of yours?"

Bulma shrugged. "She's not here. I think my parents are staying somewhere else overnight because they didn't know how long it would take to repair the house."

He clenched his fists and paced back and forth a few times before he stopped and faced her again. Feeling his icy gaze, she looked up again and noticed for the first time that the only thing he was wearing was a towel around his hips. Her eyes roamed up his chest, over which drops of water were trickling between his muscles. He had obviously just gotten out of the shower.

"What?" she asked, setting her book down and glaring at him.

"I am out…" he started, then hesitated. He couldn't remember what the humans called the clothing he wore to bed. "I require clean garments to sleep in," he finished quickly.

His tail twitched in what she was coming to recognize as embarrassment. Funny how though his face hardly ever gave away what he was feeling, his tail would betray him. It was difficult to figure out what its movements meant, but she was slowly learning.

"Oh." What did he sleep in? "You mean you're out of clean boxers."

His tail twitched furiously as he pinched the bridge of his nose, hiding his face with his hand. She smiled at him though he couldn't see it. For some reason, his embarrassment was endearing to her. It was probably better that he didn't know she was misinterpreting his embarrassment over forgetting the silly word as embarrassment over having to ask for that particular type of clothing. He finally grumbled, "Yes, Woman."

"Hold on, I'll go check the laundry. Mom's probably got some clean for you," Bulma said as she walked past him to go down the hall to the laundry room. He waited until she came back holding a basket with folded clothes in them. "Here, these are yours," she said as she handed the basket over to him.

He looked at her incredulously and refused to take it from her. She tried to push it into his arms again but he frowned and stepped back from her. "Take it, Vegeta!"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You disrespect me by making me do a servant's work?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "You have _got_ to be kidding me! Fine then, I'll take this up to your room but _you_ can put your clothes away, your highness," she spat.

"Hn." He followed her out of the living room and upstairs to his room.

She dropped the basket on the bed and was going to leave when something caught her eye. Moving around the bed to see better, she looked down at the saiyan's nest that seemed to have grown since she had last seen it. She raised her hands in the air and looked up as she silently implored the gods as to why she had to deal with this man.

"Vegeta, are those the cushions from the dining room chairs?" she asked tiredly.

He shrugged. "They may have been."

"What are they doing here?" she demanded.

"I brought them here," he answered nonchalantly.

She hissed, "Why?"

"They are for my r'udhari."

"Your what?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. He hated having to explain himself to this woman all the time. "Roughly translated, my nest." She raised her eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He elaborated, "Humans sleep in beds, saiyans sleep in r'udhari."

"That doesn't explain why you stole the cushions from the dining room chairs!"

"It doesn't matter why I did it. I did it so drop it," he snarled. He turned his attention to the basket of clothes and started putting them away in his drawers. She watched in mild amusement at the orderliness of it. Once the last pair of shorts was put away, he grabbed a pair of boxers and untied the towel from his hips, letting it drop to the floor.

Bulma gasped and blushed furiously as she closed her eyes and turned her head away. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort as he pulled the boxers on and threw the towel into the dirty laundry. 'My Kami, he has a nice ass,' she thought before mentally slapping herself for thinking it. 'He is not that attractive.'

She was snapped out of her reverie when Vegeta asked, "What are you still doing in my room, Woman?"

"I, um, nothing," she said awkwardly, "I just. Vegeta, I don't want you to be mad at me."

He snorted. "Give me one good reason not to be."

"Because," she said, stalling. She really hadn't thought about what to say to him. She tried again, "I care about you a lot, Vegeta. And I like you. I want to be your friend. I want you to trust me. And I'd like for you to like me too."

Vegeta scowled at her. "Why should I trust you if you don't trust me?"

She thought that maybe he had a point there. She openly admitted that she didn't trust him, and she thought that she probably never would. And yet she was asking him to trust her. This man who had probably never trusted anyone before in his life. She felt foolish for even suggesting it. "You're right. I know I shouldn't ask that of you. But I do want you to know that I never meant to humiliate you. And I will never, ever tell anyone what you told me last night. Everything I said was true, you know. I do respect you."

"Hn. Very well, then, I will not be mad at you any longer," he sighed, waving his hand as if tossing the grudge he was holding away. "But I do want to know why you don't trust me." He was suddenly in front of her and pushed her back onto the bed and crawled on top of her, holding her down.

Bulma gasped in surprise and looked into his ebony eyes, falling into them. Eyes should just not be that black. His face was so close to hers she could smell his hot breath, but it was not unpleasant.

He buried his face in her neck and inhaled, his lips brushing against her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine and didn't know why. He lifted his head again to where their noses were almost touching. "I don't smell fear on you, yet you say you do not trust me."

She raised her hands to his waist and ran her hand up and down his sides slowly. He flinched a little. "Why should I fear you? Are you going to hurt me?"

"I could."

The reality of the statement struck her, but she wasn't worried. "I can't trust you because you're like a storm, Vegeta. Powerful, violent, volatile. You can be so calm one minute and ready to kill someone the next. I guess I just don't understand you."

He smirked. "I am an animal, Woman. I have told you that before. Do you expect me to act like a tame little house cat?"

She chuckled a little when she thought about a _tame_ Vegeta. He felt her breath on his lips and he felt another strange emotion itching at the back of his mind. He immediately squashed it. "No, I would never want that. I prefer you to be like a tiger. Wild and unpredictable." She raised one hand up and ran it through his mane of hair, loving the way it felt between her fingers. "Though you look more like a lion," she teased.

"Oh really?" he asked, amused. "And you don't mind having a lion pinning you down? Don't you know what he could do to you?" To make his point he moved his head down again and dragged his sharp canine along her throbbing carotid artery. She inhaled sharply and moved her hands to his chest, as if to hold him back from hurting her. "Relax, Woman. I will never purposely harm you." Only Kami knows why, he added to himself.

"You mean that, Vegeta?"

"You have my word."

"I trust you," she whispered.

"Then you are a fool."

Instead of answering, Bulma wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He remained rigid, but she didn't mind. She knew he had little experience with non-hurtful touch.

Bulma and Vegeta stared at each other for a few minutes before he moved off of her and sat next to her on the bed. She sat up and watched him, seeing how his tail wrapped tighter around his waist. Why was he feeling insecure?

She realized he hadn't addressed one part of what she had told him earlier, a part that she desperately wanted to come true. "So does this mean you'll let me be your friend?"

He turned to her and cocked his head and furrowed his brows. "I do not need friends, Woman," he replied stoically.

"Just because you don't need them," she reasoned, "doesn't mean you can't have them."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I won't be your friend."

She smiled and rested her hand on his forearm. "That's ok, Vegeta. You don't have to be, but let me be a friend for you."

He swallowed before asking, "Why do you…?"

"What?" she prodded, "Want to be your friend?"

He nodded.

"Because I don't think you have ever had one before. I think you might actually like having one."

He snorted. "There are many things I haven't had during my life, Woman. I would say I have done well to avoid having ties to anyone. It has helped me survive many times."

"Life is different now. You're not working for Frieza. You don't have to fight to live anymore. Aside from the androids," she added quickly. "But you don't have to be alone anymore."

"I prefer to be alone," he whispered.

"Would it kill you to let one person get close to you?" she asked.

"It might."

Bulma didn't know what to say to that. It seemed like a hopeless attempt to try to get him to realize at that moment that he didn't have to live in solitude. She wondered if he ever got lonely or if he truly did enjoy being all alone. He had to rely on himself since he was a young boy. He had forgotten what it meant to depend on others for anything.

Her heart ached for the prince. She carefully studied his profile as they sat in silence. What was he hiding behind that stony expression? Would he ever let his guard down, at least around her? She looked down when something soft brushed against her leg. His tail was curled by his side between them. She wanted to touch it again, but thought better of it.

"Could I ask you something?" she asked after a while.

"You just did," he answered in a deadpan voice.

She chuckled a little. Letting that comment slide, she continued, "Would you let me fly with you sometime? When you're a super saiyan?"

He cocked his head at her again. He had not expected a question like that. "What for?"

Bulma suddenly felt very shy. What for, indeed. "I just, uh. No one ever flies me anywhere, and I want to know what it's like. And… you can go really fast when you're super," she mumbled. She rubbed her upper arm self-consciously and looked away from him, biting her bottom lip.

He shrugged. "I'll consider it."

Bulma nodded, satisfied with that. It was actually more than she had really hoped for. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "What time is it?" she asked as she glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It read 10:38PM. "Oh damn it's late," she groaned. She had spent more time with Vegeta than she thought.

She stood up and stretched again as she said, "I need to go to bed, Vegeta. I'll see you in the morning." She left his room and walked down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her and changed into her pajamas before slipping into bed. She was asleep almost instantly.

Vegeta remained sitting on the bed long after she left. He couldn't figure her out. Why did she want to get close to him? It made no sense to him. She knew what he was. He was evil, a murderer. Countless races had been wiped out of existence by his hands. He had killed some of her friends, tried to kill the rest, and wanted to destroy her planet. She knew how dangerous he was, and yet she wanted to be his friend? She confused him, and he didn't like that. But he couldn't bring himself to be mad at her. Never before in his life had he let someone get away with hurting his pride so easily. Still, if anyone could do it, it was her, even if he couldn't understand why.

Sighing, he slid off the bed and crawled into his nest, burying himself under pillows and blankets. He curled himself around the body pillow again and fell into a dreamless sleep.

_A/N: Surprised that Vegeta forgave Bulma so easily? Yeah, me too. That doesn't mean their trust isn't going to be shaky and easily susceptible to problems, though. After all, Vegeta doesn't even know what a friend is, and he's not exactly an easy person to befriend anyway._

_Sometimes I think it's a little too easy for me to write Bulma/Vegeta conversations because I'm just a bit too much like them. Temperamental, arrogant, easily offended, snarky…_

_Song: "So Contagious" by Acceptance_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Just as every cop's a criminal  
And all the sinners saints  
As heads is tails  
Just call me Lucifer  
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint_

Bulma woke up while it was still dark out. She grumbled as she turned over in bed to check her alarm clock. It was 2:15AM. She groaned and laid back in bed, trying to return to sleep. For some reason she couldn't seem to find a comfortable position as she tossed and turned for the next twenty minutes. Tired and frustrated, she got out of bed and went downstairs to get a drink of milk. Maybe then she would be able to go back to sleep.

Yawning and rubbing her tired eyes, she crept downstairs quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping saiyan. She knew he was a light sleeper after one night when she hadn't been so careful to be quiet and he came out of his room and yelled at her to stop making so much noise. That thought made her laugh to herself. He was even more of a grouch when someone woke him up than she was. And that was definitely saying something.

The blue-haired woman dragged her feet into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, its bright light illuminating the room. She pulled a glass out of the cabinet and was starting to pour the milk when a muffled sound from another room caught her attention. She put the milk away and left the kitchen to go investigate. It was hard to tell which room the noise had come from since there were so many and it was barely audible, but she searched around anyway. 'Maybe I only imagined it,' she thought after going through several rooms.

Crash! She jumped as the loud noise startled her. She hadn't imagined _that_. 'That sounded like it came from the lab,' she told herself, 'but who would be there at this time of night?' Bulma slowly made her way down the hall, listening for any more mysterious sounds that might give her a clue as to what was behind it. When she reached the door to her lab, she found that the security lock had been tampered with. Now she knew that she was looking for a _who_, not a _what_. Her heart started racing as she pushed the door open and peeked in.

There were three figures in black running around the lab, apparently hunting for something. Bulma saw the light catching something on their hips, and she figured they must be guns. It was just her luck to find burglars on the night when her parents were gone! Nearing panic, she decided to go back to the kitchen and call the police. She had just started to turn to leave when one of the robbers looked up and saw her.

"Hey!" a female's voice called out, grabbing the attention of the others, "Get her before she calls the police!" The smallest black-clad figure pointed to Bulma, who was now wide-eyed and frozen in fear. One of the burglars ran up the stairs and caught her wrists as she tried to back away, not quite fast enough.

"Let me go!" she screamed before a hand was clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream but her voice was muffled. She felt the person's other arm pull her arms behind her back and hold them in place so she couldn't struggle as she was dragged down into the lab. She tried kicking but found that to be more ineffective than screaming.

"What do we have here?" the female burglar asked, "The heiress bitch herself?" She laughed.

Bulma was forced into the chair from her desk. Before she could get up, someone was tying her arms behind the back of the chair. "What the hell are you doing?" she screeched, her mouth having been freed. She tried to struggle against her bonds, but to no avail. She wondered what she had gotten herself into this time. Unable to do much else, she kept screaming incoherently.

Then a brilliant thought struck her. She screamed again, as loud as she could, "Vegeta! Vegeta help me!" Her voice was hoarse now, but she kept screaming for the saiyan prince, praying that he would somehow hear her down in the basement. She imagined his head buried under pillows and became frantic. What if he didn't hear her? These burglars might do something worse than rob her.

"Oh my Kami, would you shut the fuck up?" one of the burglars shouted at her. By the voice Bulma could tell that this one was a man. He grabbed a cloth from her work station and stuffed it in her mouth, silencing her cries for help.

Bulma's eyes began to fill with tears as fear gripped her heart. Her muffled cries continued and she tried to pull her arms free, but only succeeded in rubbing her skin raw against the rope. Tears started pouring down her face, her unheard screams turning to sobs that wracked her body.

The woman burglar came over to her and placed a hand on her head. "What's wrong, Miss Brief?" she asked in a mocking tone, "Are you scared? Don't worry, we won't be here much longer. We're just trying to find the plans for some new inventions that we can steal and get all the credit for." Her voice was comforting, making her words even more unsettling to Bulma.

Up in his room, Vegeta was turning restlessly in his nest. Through the silence of sleep, he thought he could hear distant screams for help. That wasn't unusual for his dreams; often he would dream of purging planets and the civilians would scream in terror, calling on a savior who would never come. But the screams he was hearing now _were_ unusual because they were calling on _him_ to be the savior. Still asleep, he buried his head deeper under his pillows and blankets, but the voice echoed through his mind, finally forcing him awake.

Everything was silent. He listened for several long minutes, but there was not a sound to be heard. He shook his head and figured it had just been a dream, haunting though it was. He thought he could still hear the voice calling for him in the back of his mind. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong even as he nuzzled back into his pillows to sleep again.

"You know, we could take her with us. I bet we'd get more money from a ransom than some stupid invention," one of the male robbers suggested after their search had turned up nothing terribly interesting.

"You might be right," the woman agreed, "but we would have to play our cards very carefully." She strolled over to Bulma and roughly grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so she could look at her face, streaked with tears. "But what wouldn't mommy and daddy give to get their precious spoiled brat back?"

Bulma's eyes widened in a renewed sense of panic. They were going to kidnap her. She, the most rich and powerful woman on Earth, was going to be kidnapped by some lowly criminals and held for ransom. She kept telling herself that this just wasn't right. She had to be dreaming. No, having a nightmare, and she would wake up and find that none of this was real.

He finally conceded to the idea that it was real and not a nightmare. The idea of someone depending on him disgusted him. It aroused a feeling of fear in the corners of his conscious, fear that he had allowed himself to become attached to someone. Unable to return to sleep, he felt out for the woman's ki to make sure she was safe in her room. Her ki wasn't there. Becoming increasingly perplexed, he searched the compound for her. She wasn't in the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, or the indoor garden. There she was! In the lab, and her ki was fluctuating madly in distress.

"Alright boys, change of plans. We're going to take this bitch with us and hold her for ransom. There's nothing worth stealing here anyway. Grab her and let's go," the woman burglar said to the others.

Despite the grim situation, Bulma had to chuckle to herself. They thought there was nothing worth stealing here? In the lab of Bulma Brief, most brilliant and famous scientist in all the world? That was laughable. Clearly these idiots didn't even know what to look for as they ransacked the place or they would have found countless things they could steal, sell, and get rich off of. Their loss.

Bulma's momentary amusement was shattered when she was hoisted over one of the men's shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes. She felt degraded, though she should have been more concerned about being kidnapped in general than just worried about how she was being carried. But she wasn't thinking very clearly anymore, so that didn't matter to her. She had resigned herself to her terrible fate when the door of the lab flew open, falling off its hinges.

"Woman," a tired voice barked out, "What _have_ you gotten yourself into?"

Bulma never thought her heart would flutter at the sound of that gruff voice, but it was fluttering like crazy now. He heard her and came to save her and everything would be alright! She still couldn't answer him, though, as the gag was still in her mouth.

"Who's this, security?" the woman burglar asked, pulling her pistol out of its holster at her hip. "He doesn't look like much."

Bulma heard a snort and nearly died laughing. 'These crooks don't know what they were up against.' She heard a quiet thud and imagined him launching himself over the rail and landing in his cat-like crouch. She really wished this moron would turn her around so she could see what was going on.

"Oh look, they hired an acrobat to do tricks and hope bad guys get scared away," she heard the other man mock. She rolled her eyes at his idiocy. Now that her savior had come, all fear had left her, replaced by a strange kind of excitement and confidence.

"You should not have come here," Vegeta said in a low, threatening voice. "Not only have you caused me to lose sleep, but you have threatened my…_friend_." The last word sounded about as alien to him as it felt for him to say it.

Still, Bulma's mental smile was beaming when she heard him say that. So he had accepted her as his friend! That was just about the best thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Isn't that the guy all over the papers and magazines in pictures with this bitch?" the man holding Bulma said as he jostled her a little to show who he was talking about. He didn't sound very smart, probably just there for his brawn.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at him. _He_ was the only one who was allowed to call the woman a bitch. And he didn't want to be reminded of those stupid pictures and the foolishness of the reporters suggesting he and the woman were an item.

"So he is," the woman burglar said. Bulma could see her raising her pistol and aiming it toward where Vegeta must have been standing. Her confidence wavered a little bit.

"Woman, do not concern yourself with me," she heard him say, and knew that it was directed toward her. How had he known?

Vegeta took a step toward the woman with the gun, smirking at her pathetic reliance on such a useless weapon. The sound of the gunshot rang through the lab, but there was no following cry of pain or sound of a body hitting the floor. Bulma jumped at the loud bang, but relaxed when she heard Vegeta's _slightly_ insane laughing.

"What the fuck?" the woman burglar yelled. She aimed right at his heart, and she never missed her target.

"What's wrong, you low class wench?" Vegeta asked through his laughter. "You thought your little human toys would have any effect on me?" He held out his hand and dropped the smashed bullet on the floor.

The man holding Bulma took a step back, starting to realize they weren't up against someone normal. Bulma heard the bullet hit the metal floor and smirked through the gag in her mouth. These idiots had no chance against an angry saiyan. She jumped when she heard more gunshots. Through it all Vegeta was laughing.

Finally there was only a click when the burglar's pistol ran out of bullets. "Shit," she hissed. She had definitely not counted on facing off against some sort of superhuman monster or mutant or _something_. There was the sound of metal against metal as he dropped a handful of bullets on the floor in front of him. Frightened, but still trying to remain in control, she shouted, "So you can catch bullets, you freak, so what? Let us go and you won't get hurt."

Vegeta frowned at her and crossed his arms over his chest again. The burglar felt her blood running cold under his gaze. "Wench, you will not speak to the Prince of all Saiyans in such a disrespectful manner." His voice was low, almost a growl.

Bulma laughed after reciting his speech with him mentally. She had heard it so many times it basically had no effect on her anymore. But she could see, and feel, the fear it elicited in her captors. "P-prince? Of what?" the man holding her asked, his voice quaking with fear.

Vegeta grinned, his long canines glinting in the fluorescent lights of the lab. His tail uncurled and flicked around behind him in short, jerky movements. If Bulma could see it, she would have realized he was getting a great deal of amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"He – he has a tail!" Bulma's captor gasped in surprise. She really, really wished she could see what was going on now.

"Shut up, you idiot," the woman burglar barked at her companion, "Who cares?"

Vegeta's attention turned to the man holding Bulma over his shoulder. He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Put her down, you fool," he growled, stepping closer to him.

"Don't listen to him," the woman burglar hissed. Bulma could sense his hesitation. He was probably used to following her orders without question, but he was starting to fear for his life as the saiyan prince approached him. With a muffled yelp she fell to the floor as he shrugged her off his shoulder and backed away, holding his hands in front of him defensively.

Vegeta smirked. "Good, boy. I might just spare your life." He strolled over to Bulma and pulled the gag out of her mouth. "You really are a lot of trouble, Woman."

"Nice to see you too, Vegeta," she answered, grinning. He smirked at her and ripped the ropes off her wrists.

He stood again and faced the three burglars who were cowering against the wall opposite the stairs. "Well, now, what do I do with this scum?" he thought aloud as he slowly walked to where they were trying to become part of the wall. Bulma giggled when she realized what he was doing. The master of intimidation, he was deliberately drawing out the pain of uncertainty in his victims. He stood right in front of the woman, who he had determined was the leader of the group, and wrapped his hand around her throat, pushing her up against the wall until her feet were dangling.

He watched in amusement as she gasped and clawed at his hands. He leaned forward so his breath was tickling her ear and whispered so only she could hear, "It's been a long time since I've feasted on the warm flesh of a fresh kill." She let out a choked scream and kicked and clawed furiously trying to get free of the demon that held her. She struggled until she fell unconscious and he dropped her unceremoniously on the floor.

Bulma scrambled to her feet and ran over to make sure the woman was still alive. She was relieved to find the woman's pulse was slow and steady. But Vegeta had already advanced on the two men who wanted the floor to swallow them up before having to face the monster in front of them.

"You – you monster! You're a demon!" one of the men shouted, pressing his body against the wall behind him.

Vegeta stopped and smirked, flashing his canine at them. "Yes, I am the Prince of Darkness," he said proudly as he bowed, as if introducing himself for the first time.

"Vegeta," Bulma started. He glanced her way and raised an eyebrow. "Stop terrorizing them, just make sure they don't get away and I'll call the police."

"Very well," he muttered, sounding disappointed. He raised his hand and pointed his index and middle fingers at them and flashes of light shot out. When they opened their eyes they found themselves bound by rings of yellow light. They struggled but were unable to free themselves from the ki rings. His mirth now over, Vegeta's face returned to stoicism, if not boredom.

Bulma hung up the phone and went over to sit next to him while they waited for the police to arrive. "You are…" she started, then trailed off as she searched for the right word.

He filled it in for her. "Terrifying? Evil?"

She smiled at him. "I was going to say amazing, but that's just my opinion."

"Hn."

A second later he found himself in the tight embrace of the blue-haired woman. He leaned away from her, but she moved with him, refusing to let him go. He frowned at the crown of blue hair and grumbled under his breath.

"Oh stop complaining," she ordered, "you saved me and you're wonderful so I'm going to hug you all I want."

"Whatever. I only did it so I could go back to sleep."

"I don't believe that. You called me your _friend_," she reminded him smugly. "And I'm not going to let you forget it, mister."

He growled, but it was not threatening. She thought it actually sounded more like a purr, so she leaned into his chest more, feeling the deep vibrations move through her own body. A few minutes later, she was sitting in his lap sound asleep.

The doorbell rang, but she didn't stir. Vegeta nudged her a little, getting only a protesting moan in response. The doorbell rang again. She still hadn't woken up. "Woman," he said softly but firmly, "Wake up." She nuzzled deeper into his chest and murmured something about not wanting to get up for school yet. Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood up, holding her bridal style.

'This woman is impossible,' he thought as he went upstairs and down the hall to the front door. Shifting her weight to one arm, he opened the door and scowled at the small troop of policemen standing on the front step. "What?" he barked.

The man standing in the front flinched and tried to calm himself before answering, "We received a call from Miss Brief about a robbery…" he started before he noticed the man was holding the blue-haired heiress in one arm. He continued, alarmed, "Oh no! Is she hurt?"

Vegeta slapped away the hand that was reaching out to check if Bulma was alright. "She's fine," he snarled, "The foolish woman just fell asleep while you took your sweet time getting your asses over here." He turned and walked back down the hallway, the open door their only invitation to follow.

The saiyan went back down to the lab and stood out of the way as the policemen filed in. "Vegeta, what's going on?" Bulma mumbled, still half asleep. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, sighing in comfort.

"Woman," he said, losing patience, "In case you forgot, you were being robbed and the idiots botched the job and decided to kidnap you instead." Her eyes opened wide and she looked around, seeing the police and the two conscious robbers bound by glowing rings of ki begging to be taken away from the demon prince.

Vegeta set her down on her feet and she stumbled over to where the policemen had gathered, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes and stretching at the same time. He thought she looked drunk the way she was staggering around in exhaustion. He snorted.

"Miss Brief," the spokesman of the police said, "We don't know how to get these off the men. Could you, er, disable them?"

"Uh, sure," she said and turned to Vegeta, nodding for him to let them go. The ki rings were gone in an instant, the only sign they had been there being some minor burn marks.

Seeing the burglars disarmed and handcuffed, Vegeta decided that things were under control. Without a word, he silently left while Bulma was filling out some kind of statement about what had happened and the police were talking amongst themselves about who could have subdued them without any trouble. No one noticed the absence of the prince except the burglars, who were sure that he was the devil incarnate.

Vegeta returned to his room and curled up in his nest after dropping a few clean terrycloth rags he had snatched from Bulma's work station into the mix of pillows and blankets. He pulled the blankets up over him and promptly fell asleep.

_A/N: Yeah, it's a little fluff chapter. Honestly, I don't like it that much, but eh, whatever. It shows another dimension to Vegeta's personality, so I decided not to omit it, even if the whole saving Bulma from the bad guys thing is a bit cheesy._

_To address some reviews:_

_Vegeta was able to stay SSJ so long in the last chapter because he was running on the excess energy that had built up during his two days of rest. Had it not been for that, he only would have been able to stay ascended for probably an hour or two, tops. And it was because of the excess energy that it was able to eclipse Goku's so much. They even out a little bit later until Vegeta trains as a SSJ more._

_I don't think I'm going to be writing any real lemons in this story. There might be a bit of lemony zest, but that's about as far as I feel comfortable going. But we'll see. ;)_

_Trust me, this story is absolutely packed with twists and turns. Hold on and enjoy the ride!_

_Song: "Sympathy for the Devil" by The Rolling Stones_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_I am in misery  
There ain't nobody who can comfort me, oh yeah  
Why won't you answer me?  
The silence is slowly killing me, oh yeah_

The irritating buzzing of the alarm clock droned on for several minutes before it was acknowledged. A hand crashed down on it and ended its tirade. A sleepy groan muffled by a pillow could be heard, but otherwise nothing. There was no rustle of the covers being kicked off, no squeak of the bed as weight shifted, and no creak of the floorboards indicating a person's trip to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later on the dot the alarm clock's ugly voice rang out again, announcing the beginning of a new day. Another sleepy groan followed, tainted with annoyance this time. The same hand crashed down on the clock and silenced it once more. This time there was a sigh of resignation followed by covers being kicked off, the bed squeaking, and floorboards creaking.

Bulma shuffled to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth before dressing and heading downstairs to make breakfast. She was absolutely exhausted after losing over two precious hours of sleep the night before. 'Stupid robbers,' her voice grumbled in her head, 'taking away my beauty sleep. Trying to steal my inventions. Trying to kidnap me. They got what was coming.'

Standing in the lukewarm water, hoping it would help wake her up, she nearly fell asleep again, forgetting to bother washing herself. Her shower lasted much longer than usual because of her lack of energy, worse than most mornings. Finally, she got out and dried her hair before wrapping her towel around herself. Stopping in front of the sink, she brushed her teeth and then fixed her hair so it wouldn't turn into a frizzy mop for the rest of the day.

She frowned at the dark bags under her eyes and started muttering curses under her breath as she walked out of her bathroom to find some clothes. Oh, vanity. Because of it she didn't notice the visitor in her room as she trudged to her closet to pick out an outfit. She walked into it and disappeared from view for a few minutes, the only sounds giving away her location being hangers sliding along the bar and one-word comments such as "slutty" or "gaudy."

Her towel was thrown out the door of the closet and there was the soft sound of clothes brushing against skin as she dressed herself. A minute later she walked out dressed in a knee-length khaki skirt and a green blouse tucked into her skirt. She was pulling on matching green pumps as she came out.

That was when she noticed the other person in her room with her. "Ah!" her short scream slipped out of her mouth before she could come to her senses. "Oh my Kami, Vegeta, don't sneak up on me like that!"

He was sitting on the edge of her bed with his arms crossed and his ever-present scowl on his face. He raised his eyebrow at her. "I have been here for fifteen minutes, Woman. I would not consider that sneaking up on you."

Bulma put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "Ok, whatever, what are you doing in here anyway?"

"I have finished my pre-breakfast training. But there is no breakfast prepared."

The blue-haired scientist rolled her eyes. "You really need to learn to make your own."

Vegeta stood up and in two steps was in front of her, his black orbs fixed on her blue eyes. "Why would I learn a servant's trade?" he asked, truly puzzled.

"So you don't go hungry when there's no one to wait on you," she grumbled, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of her room. "Seriously, you're as bad as a child." Bulma marched him downstairs and into the kitchen and shoved him into his seat at the table. He did not grace that comment with a response.

He watched her moving about the kitchen as she gathered ingredients for his breakfast. Two dozen eggs, half a pound of cheese, and three pounds of sausage links. While she cooked his eggs and sausage, she slammed a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table to keep him busy while he waited. Shrugging, he picked out a banana and started eating, peel and all.

Bulma saw him out of the corner of her eye and had to do a double take. She nearly fell over laughing. "'Geta, you're not supposed to eat the peel."

He looked at the banana and then at the woman who was grinning foolishly at him. He swallowed and asked, "Why? It's edible, unlike the peels of other fruits such as those oranges." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the memory of trying to eat the bitter orange peel before he figured out that humans peeled them and only ate the soft flesh inside.

"I suppose it is, but people generally peel bananas before they eat them, that's all."

"I am not human," he reminded her as he continued eating the banana. In two bites it was gone and he reached into the bowl for another. Bulma shrugged and turned back to the stove where she was scrambling his eggs. Even if she tried to make his eggs any other way they ended up scrambled, so she didn't even bother trying anything else anymore.

Bulma got a large plate out of the cupboard and emptied the skillet of sausages onto it and filled it with more to cook while he ate those. She did the same with his eggs before carrying the two plates to the table and setting them in front of him.

"So you won't even learn how to make yourself cereal or toast or something since that's a servant's job?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. "I mean, that's hardly cooking."

Vegeta grunted, too busy eating to bother answering with actual words. Having thought of toast, Bulma put four slices of bread in the toaster and opened the refrigerator to pull out some jam. "Do you want orange juice?" she asked while searching for the elusive jar of blackberry jam. She heard another grunt that sounded like an affirmative, so she pulled the carton of juice out along with the jam.

Setting them on the counter, she pushed the eggs around the skillet to keep them from burning before pouring him a tall glass of orange juice. She set it in front of him and watched him reach out for it while his other hand continued shoveling eggs into his mouth. He was an eating machine that never stopped for anything until it was full. She had made this observation every day for the past few months, but it never ceased to amaze her.

When she had served him the last batch of eggs and sausage she made herself a small bowl of cereal and spread the jam on the toast, handing two pieces to him when she sat down across from him at the table. They finished their breakfast in silence.

When Bulma got up to start taking the dirty dishes to the sink to clean, she asked Vegeta, "What are you going to be doing today?" in an attempt to make a little conversation before he inevitably went back to training. He didn't have the gravity chamber, so he was even more stringent with his training schedule, making sure not to waste even a minute, having to make up for a loss in quality with increased quantity.

The one word response was expected: "Training."

"All day?" she asked as she turned the faucet on to begin filling the sink with hot water. "You just reached super saiyan yesterday, I thought maybe you would ease up in your training."

He pushed his chair out from the table and stood up, ready to leave. "Woman, just because I have reached my goal does not mean that I can slack off now." He gulped down the rest of his orange juice and set it down on the counter next to the sink. "If you hurry up and build me a new gravity chamber, maybe I could waste my time talking."

"I'm working on it," she muttered to herself since he had already left the kitchen before she even had a chance to open her mouth to reply. She added, "And it's going to be much better than the last one."

She heard the back door of the compound slam shut and she knew that he had gone into the yard to do his training. 'Looks like it's back to the old routine,' she thought. 'I don't know why I thought maybe things would be different after spending just two days with him.' She sighed and put the dishes in the drainer to dry. She looked out the window above the sink and wished she could have another day alone with the saiyan prince.

Bulma headed for the lab to draw up some blueprints for the new gravity room she was planning. When she got to the door, she groaned when she remembered it being knocked off its hinges. She pushed it aside and flipped the light switch. 'Oh Kami,' she muttered when she saw the state of disarray her lab was in. Tables were knocked over, leaving mechanical parts scattered across the floor. Blueprints were torn up, papers strewn all over, and her computer screen was broken. "This will take forever to clean up."

Deciding to set to work instead of procrastinating, Bulma walked down the stairs and started picking tables up and collecting all the loose papers, trying to put them back into order. That alone took a little over an hour and she still had so much more to do. She sat down in the chair at her desk and rested her head on her arms. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, her fatigue from the night before weighing heavily on her.

Outside Vegeta was busy polishing his kicks, never being satisfied completely with their execution. He would do one that met his standards and three hundred more trying to replicate it. Then he would switch legs and go through the process all over again. It was tedious, but he demanded nothing less than perfection from himself. He had not powered up to super saiyan, trying not only to conserve his energy, but also figuring that by increasing his power in his base state he would also increase his power in his ascension.

'That woman had better be busy building a new gravity chamber,' he thought as he completed another series of kicks. 'I cannot push myself to my limits and beyond in the low gravity of this planet.' He started fighting an invisible opponent, kicking and punching at it and dodging unseen blows. In his mind he was replaying a fight he had in the past with a warrior on a planet long since destroyed. With his photographic memory he was able to remember each fight he had to the smallest detail and learn from the mistakes of both himself and his opponent.

Back in the lab, Bulma woke up and wiped the drool from her cheek as she sat back and surveyed the mess around her again. She had certainly made progress, but there was still a lot to do. It frustrated her that she was being held up from working on the gravity room Vegeta needed. But there was no way she could work while having to tiptoe through various gadgets and not have the use of her computer.

She started going around the lab picking up pieces of blueprints and setting them on her desk. Why the robbers had felt the need to destroy anything they decided not to take was beyond her. Maybe they just wanted to make life difficult for her. Or they resented that she could make so much money from patenting her ideas and wanted to deprive her of her livelihood. Whatever the case, they had done a great deal of damage to her many unfinished blueprints, and she wasn't happy about it.

Bulma yelped and nearly fell over when she stubbed her toe on a large machine, her feet unprotected since she had abandoned her shoes. She bounced on her uninjured foot, holding the throbbing toe and growling a string of expletives directed at the offending machine. Regaining her composure, she picked up another piece of a blueprint and hopped back over to her desk, her feet carefully landing between unfinished gadgetry.

Looking back around the lab, she didn't see any more shreds of her ideas, so she sat back down at the desk and started piecing the blueprints together like jigsaw puzzles, taping them into place. Almost two hours passed before she had them neatly stacked on the corner of her desk. 'Now for the hard part,' she thought, 'I have to sort through all this junk and figure out where it belongs. Serves me right for working on too many projects at once.'

Vegeta finished his 'fight' and wiped the sweat from his face with his towel. He had gone over it three times and managed to fix all the mistakes made, perfecting the performance of both warriors until his own technique had benefited from it. His tail swished through the air behind him, accompanying a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, he had almost an hour before lunch. He chugged two bottles of water before settling down on the ground to spend the rest of the morning doing sit-ups.

Bulma had successfully identified all the pieces of two projects and set them aside on one of the tables. 'There's only like a billion more to go,' she thought tiredly. She slid the blueprints that went with said projects under the piles of parts and picked up another one to start figuring out which pieces went with it. 'I don't even remember this one,' she laughed to herself. She shook her head at her own short attention span when it came to inventing.

She was just getting started when she heard a surprised, but still cheerful, voice calling to her from the top of the stairs, "Oh my! Bulma, honey, what happened to the door? Oh well, I'm sure it can be fixed easily enough." Mrs. Brief's slightly concerned expression returned to its bright smile as she continued, "I came to tell you that lunch is ready and Mr. Vegeta is already eating, so you might want to hurry." She giggled. "You know how much that young man eats."

"Yes, Mother," Bulma called up the stairs, picking her way back through the wreckage of her lab. Funny how her mother noticed the door but none of the rest of the mess.

Bulma walked into the kitchen and hugged both her parents before sitting down at the table to begin serving herself. "Hey 'Geta," she said, ignoring how he didn't even pause in his eating. "So I think I need to tell you what happened here last night," Bulma started after taking a few bites of food.

"What do you mean, honey?" Mrs. Brief asked as she scooped more potato salad onto Vegeta's plate.

"Well, the reason the door to my lab is broken is that last night some burglars broke in, wanting to steal the plans for some new invention they could patent and make millions off of," Bulma answered, trying to sound casual so as not to alarm her parents.

The newspaper Dr. Brief was holding lowered and he looked at her over the edge. "Goodness. Are you alright, dear?"

Bulma nodded and began to relate to them everything that had happened that night. Mrs. Brief began fretting over her daughter and whimpering about "some people" while Dr. Brief listened quietly, nodding his head to show he understood everything right.

When she got to the part about Vegeta rescuing her, she couldn't help but notice how he actually paused in his eating, staring at his food as if he wasn't sure he wanted to keep eating. His tail tightened around his waist and he took a drink of water, swallowing slowly. Bulma realized that he was uncomfortable being painted as a hero, so she tried to downplay his actions as much as possible while still giving him credit.

When Mrs. Brief started fawning over Vegeta's heroics, he looked like he was about to bolt from the room. In an effort to save him from his discomfort, Bulma barked, "Mom, would you listen to the rest of the story, please?"

Mrs. Brief turned to her daughter and smiled brightly. "Of course, dear, please continue."

The tension in Vegeta's shoulders eased and he picked up his fork to continue eating as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Bulma finished telling her tale, purposely drawing out the details of the business she had with the police to make her mother forget about Vegeta. She knew that her mother was easily distracted, so it was not hard to get her thinking about a new topic, even when the previous one had been very interesting.

"Well, dear, I'm just glad that you weren't hurt," Dr. Brief said as he raised his newspaper back up to finish reading before he went down to his own lab to work on his latest invention. Bulma might have been offended that he didn't seem to think much of her story, but she knew he was deeply concerned and was probably thinking about how to keep such an incident from happening again.

Mrs. Brief looked to be close to tears despite the smile still plastered on her face. "I just can't believe anyone would do that to my baby," she kept repeating to herself as she ate her lunch.

When Vegeta stood up to leave, Bulma rose as well and asked before she could think of something better, "How was your training this morning?"

Vegeta's eye twitched in irritation. Why did she seem to always be trying to keep him from his training with these foolish questions? "Inadequate. I think I'll go see if Kakarrot wants to spar," he said. "I need a good challenge."

"That's a good idea," Bulma agreed. "Do you want me to call him so you don't waste your time flying to his house if he's busy training with Piccolo and Gohan?"

Vegeta thought about that for a moment. They had just sparred the day before, and chances were that Kakarrot would still be rather sore from the beating he received. And for some reason he thought it worth his time to train with the Namek and half breed, as if they would be any real help in a fight. Vegeta was well aware of the need to spend his time wisely, so, grudgingly, he accepted the woman's offer.

"Alright, I'll call him now," she said as she grabbed the phone and went into another room for privacy as she talked. Even though it wasn't a secret topic, she hated talking on the phone around other people.

A few minutes later she came back into the kitchen where Vegeta was waiting, arms crossed as he looked out the window onto the sunny yard of Capsule Corp. "I talked to Goku," she told him, "and he said he wants to work on training Gohan this afternoon, but he'll spar with you after dinner."

Vegeta grunted and left the kitchen, going down the hall to the back of the compound. He went into the back yard and, after stretching to limber up, went through his kata, having little else to do. Bulma went into the living room and watched him out the window for a few minutes before pulling herself away to get back to work in the lab.

Bulma spent the next few hours organizing the mechanical parts in her lab. When she had all the parts picked up and sorted into piles according to projects, she smiled in triumph and sat in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk. Finally, things were mostly taken care of and she would be able to get to work on Vegeta's new gravity room. It was aggravating to have wasted a whole day just cleaning up the mess the burglars made, but she had to admit her lab was more organized now than it had been in years. If she really tried, she might be able to keep it that way instead of it being the black hole her tools and parts kept disappearing into.

When her stomach growled she checked her watch to see what time it was. Only 4:15. It would be another couple hours before dinner, so she decided to go upstairs and grab a snack to hold her over until then. She found her mother in the kitchen, as usual, cooking a meal fit for an army to fill the belly of a saiyan. "Hey, Mom, is Dad in his lab?" Bulma asked as she pulled the jar of jam and jug of milk out of the refrigerator.

Mrs. Brief never stopped stirring the sauce she was making on the stove as she answered, "Yes, dear, he's been there all afternoon."

Bulma put two slices of bread on a plate and spread peanut butter and blackberry jam on them. "Ok, I'll go see what he's up to in a few minutes. When is dinner going to be ready?" Bulma poured herself a glass of milk and put the jug back in the fridge.

"Around 6:30, dear. Have you gotten your lab cleaned up?"

"Yeah, Mom, it's pretty much back to normal. Maybe better," Bulma said over her shoulder as she grabbed her plate and walked out of the kitchen to go find her father. She knew what she wanted to do with the gravity room she was planning, but she would need his help on some of the logistics behind it. He had also been working on some new training bots for the saiyan and she wanted to make sure they would be able to withstand the new room.

Vegeta was growing bored with his training in the yard of the compound. It just wasn't as intense as he needed it to be, and it frustrated him to no end that he felt like he was making little, if any, progress. He dropped down to the ground again and supported his weight on his right arm. He began a set of one-handed push-ups, not even bothering to count how many he completed. In Earth's gravity he could do a million and not get tired.

As he exercised, he found his thoughts frequently wandering back to the blue-haired woman. She was an enigma to him. Someone who showed fear toward him, but wanted to be with him. She trusted him, even though she knew what he was capable of. She didn't seem to agree that he was evil, instead she had called him _amazing_. No one had ever said that before, not even Nappa or Raditz. He would have torn them apart if they had suggested he had reached a level where he could not improve further.

She had witnessed him killing her friends during his first battle on the mudball, but she wanted to be his friend anyway. He wasn't even sure what she meant by that. The concept of a friend was foreign to him, a luxury he had never been allowed and never felt he needed. What exactly was a friend? He could come up with no answer, but for some reason he was sure that his decision to not be her friend was a good one.

He had lived for years without any companions. He had his subordinate saiyan comrades, but they hardly counted. Nappa had _sort of_ raised him, but he had been so mature even at a very young age that he hardly needed a caretaker. He had considered that a kind of blessing. Sometimes his mother told him she wished he would act more like a cub, but he could tell that she was proud of him being able to take care of himself so well. Vegeta shook his head, trying to clear his mind of his nostalgic thoughts. He hated thinking about his past.

Bulma was back in her lab drawing up the plans for the new gravity room, having finished talking to her father about it. She wanted to make it an additional room to the compound instead of him having such a limited area to train in the spaceship. Her father agreed that that would probably be beneficial to the prince, and it wasn't as if they didn't have space to spare on their property. She was singing along with a song on the radio as she sketched out the blueprints. Even _he_ would be impressed with this!

Bulma's mood had improved greatly by the time Mrs. Brief called her for dinner. She was no longer grumbling about stupid robbers, instead babbling happily about the new-and-improved gravity room with its high-tech training bots and ability to withstand much higher levels of gravity than the old chamber could. She bounced up the stairs and practically danced through the hall on her way to the kitchen.

She sat down at the table across from Vegeta, who ignored her presence, and went on to tell her parents over and over again how much of a genius she was. She was almost finished drawing up her plans and, once she had ordered the parts she needed, would be able to start construction of the new gravity chamber. She clapped her hands in excitement when she thought about Vegeta's reaction to her brilliance.

Vegeta ate his dinner faster than normal, eager to get in some _real_ training before the day was out. Bulma hardly noticed him leave so excited was she about the gravity room. Her parents listened patiently, knowing that it was best to humor their somewhat conceited daughter. They smiled and nodded, offering short congratulations as she babbled on, many of her words slurring together so they could hardly understand what she was talking about by the time she excused herself and returned to her lab.

Vegeta flew to Goku's house as the sun rode low on the horizon. A familiar rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins as he thought about a good fight with his rival. His confidence was through the roof after his easy victory the night before. 'That fool had better be ready for another beating,' he thought with a smug smirk on his face. 'I barely broke a sweat all day, and I'm ready for a challenge.' Seeing his rival's house not far in the distance, he arced up into the sky and landed in the front yard of the small dwelling.

"Kakarrot, get out here!" he roared. He could have gone inside, but the last person he ever wanted to see was that fool's harpy wife.

Fortune was not on his side as the door flew open and ChiChi marched out of the house, face contorted in rage as she pointed her finger at the saiyan prince and shrieked, "You shut up and let him finish eating, you idiot! He's been working hard all day and you are _not_ going to deprive him of a full meal because you're too hot-headed to wait!"

She stomped back into the house, the front door banging shut behind her. Vegeta growled and flicked his tail behind him in anger. He wanted so badly to kill that woman, but he knew Kakarrot would not allow it. Not that it mattered now, since he was finally stronger. Still. It was better not to get into a life or death fight with the younger saiyan if he could avoid it for now.

He huffed angrily and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against a tree and waited for the other saiyan to finish eating so they could spar.

Ten minutes later Goku was bounding out the door, calling over his shoulder to his wife that he would be back soon, which, translated, meant not to wait up for him. He spotted the impatient prince under the tree and waved to him as if he were an old friend. Vegeta snorted.

"Are you finally ready, Kakarrot?" he sneered. He hated being kept waiting for anything.

"Yep!" came the cheerful reply, "Where do you want to go? Same place as last night?"

"Wherever," Vegeta said nonchalantly, "You lead the way." The two saiyans blasted off into the darkening sky, both excited about the prospect of a fair rematch.

Goku led them back to the rocky wilderness they had fought in before. There were a few craters they had created while fighting and some decimated rock formations, but otherwise it looked about the same. Goku landed in a large open area and Vegeta landed a few yards ahead.

"So what'll it be, Kakarrot? Transform or not?" Vegeta asked, crouching down.

Goku smirked. "First to go super loses." He sank into his stance and the two saiyans sized each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Goku was the first to move, racing forward to engage Vegeta in hand to hand combat. Vegeta swung at Goku's exposed side, but his arm passed through an after image. He quickly ducked as Goku's leg swept over his head. The fight had begun.

Bulma finally finished the blueprints for the gravity room. She held it up in front of her and grinned widely, eyes roaming over the sketch and double checking all the calculations. Everything seemed to be just as she wanted it to be. She kissed the paper and smoothed it out on the desk and started writing out a list of materials she would need to start building it. She would show her idea to Vegeta when he got back to make sure he wouldn't want any additional equipment. She looked at the clock on the wall and was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. He hadn't returned already, had he?

The stars were shining brightly overhead as Vegeta and Goku continued their spar, neither giving any quarters. Both looked like they had seen better days, but they kept fighting as if they had not a single injury. The top of Goku's gi had long since been torn off and Vegeta's training shorts were looking ragged.

"You should concede now, Kakarrot," Vegeta panted after they pulled away from each other. "There's no way you're going to win this."

"No way, Vegeta. You're losing power fast, you won't last much longer." He failed to mention that his power was draining just as rapidly.

The saiyan prince powered up as far as he could go, unable now to ascend even if he wanted to. The fight had dragged on for hours and it had been grueling every second. His body was not used to sustaining such a high level of power for an extended period of time, the day before excluded. But he had no built up energy to burn going into this fight, and his reserves were starting to run dry.

He charged at Goku, screaming his rage. He raised his fist, ready to give a strong uppercut to the other saiyan's jaw. Goku readied himself, anticipating the attack and planning on giving Vegeta's jaw a hard blow.

The two saiyans met and each landed their punches, knocking each other out simultaneously. They plummeted to the ground unconscious.

Bulma searched all over the compound, but the prince of all saiyans was nowhere to be found. The only conclusion she could draw was that he was still out with Goku. But he had been gone since about seven that evening, and it was after one in the morning. The giddiness she had as a result of her new project was wearing off and she was feeling extremely tired. Deciding to wait until morning, she dragged herself up to her room, changed into pajamas, and threw herself into her bed. She was out like a light as soon as her head touched her pillow.

When Vegeta started to come to, he could see the predawn light overhead. He groaned and raised his hand to his chin, prodding it tenderly as it throbbed in pain. He dropped his hand back to his side and blinked his eyes a few times. His body felt like it had been crushed and wouldn't respond to his brain's commands to move.

Next to him, Goku was also regaining consciousness. He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing the prince lying a few yards away from him. He moaned in pain as he tried to sit up and fell back down on his back. He would have laughed at their predicament if his ribs hadn't protested so violently. Breathing was painful enough as it was.

"Hey, Vegeta," Goku said, ignoring the pain in his jaw.

"Hn?"

"Can you get up?"

He heard an annoyed sound, a failed attempt to get up, and a grunt of pain. "No."

A few minutes of silence passed between the two saiyans.

"Kakarrot."

Goku turned his eyes to the body of the other saiyan. "Yeah?"

"It was a draw."

"Yeah."

Vegeta coughed up a mouthful of bloody phlegm and spit it out. Goku's stomach growled. Vegeta's rumbled in agreement. Both saiyans sighed.

"Do you think someone will come looking for us?" Goku asked after a while.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "How should I know?"

They lay there motionless for several more minutes. Goku's breathing was ragged and Vegeta coughed up blood periodically. The wind blew over them, coating their sweaty, bloody bodies in a layer of dust. Vegeta's tail flicked in irritation. It caught Goku's attention.

"I miss my tail, sometimes."

"Hn."

The conversation died. The growling of their stomachs grew louder and happened more frequently. Both imagined themselves wasting away out in the wilderness, defeated by their own metabolism. It was a sad thought, really. How did the two most powerful beings in the universe die, you ask? They beat each other to a bloody pulp and then they starved to death. Pathetic.

"Maybe if we raise our ki, someone will come help us," Goku suggested.

"I don't know about you, but my ki is on vacation."

"Oh. Yeah."

Vegeta watched the light in the sky growing brighter as the sun rose to warm them. He had gotten slightly chilled since his body was more busy clinging to life than maintaining its usual high temperature. He coughed up more blood.

"Maybe we should have gone super," Goku stated.

"Why? We would have ended up in the same state. Maybe worse," Vegeta argued.

"I suppose."

"It doesn't matter now anyway."

The wind blew again. Goku closed his eyes to keep the dust out of them. The last thing he needed was another little pain added to his aching, unresponsive body. He wiggled his fingers and toes and winced in pain. Even they were angry at him.

"Won't your harpy wife be worrying by now?"

"ChiChi? Probably."

"Maybe she'll send your brat to look for us. You, anyway."

"Hey, you're right!" Goku groaned as pain ripped through his chest. He had gotten a little too excited there for a second.

Both saiyans jerked their heads to look at the source of a loud noise not too far from them. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. A tyrannosaurus rex came into view from behind a mountain. It looked hungry. The saiyans looked edible. And it had spotted them.

"Kakarrot."

"Yeah, Vegeta?"

"If we live, I'm going to kill you."

"What did I do?"

Vegeta turned his head to look back up at the sky. He could not accept this fate. He would not be eaten by a brainless lizard. Not that he could do anything about it. He coughed up some blood. The sky was fading from early dawn pink to pale blue. Some clouds blew overhead, casting a shadow on the helpless saiyans.

The dinosaur drew closer, licking its chops as it sniffed the air filled with the scent of fresh blood. Its prey was not even trying to escape. While that may have puzzled a smarter animal, this one was not complaining. It was hungry and it wanted an easy meal. It seemed as though it just found one.

"Do you have any of those beans?" Vegeta asked, his mind suddenly desperate for hope.

"Sorry, 'Geta. They're not in season."

"Damn!"

Deciding he would _not_ be a dinosaur's breakfast, Vegeta tried to force himself up again. He got his back an inch off the ground when he fell back down, his lungs crying out in agony.

"We have to get up, Kakarrot."

"I can't move."

The dinosaur was only a few strides away now. They could smell its foul breath as it closed in on them. At that moment, the only defense either of them had was spitting at it. And they figured that wouldn't be terribly effective. Just when they were about to give up hope, something flashed across the sky and knocked the tyrannosaurus to the ground. It writhed around, its short arms unable to help it get back to its feet.

Another flash and the unlucky dinosaur was out cold. The saiyans watched in a cross between relief and bafflement as the giant lizard was taken down. By what, they couldn't tell, but at that moment neither of them cared very much. It could have been the androids, arriving early, and they would have been grateful. Well, Goku would have been, at least.

"I think we just got our lucky break," Goku sighed in relief.

"We don't know that yet," Vegeta reminded him warily.

Goku and Vegeta looked up into the sky, trying to make out who had saved them from becoming the dinosaur's next meal. No one was above them. They tried to sense out any ki, but they were unable to detect anyone. Maybe because they were just too out of it.

Vegeta coughed up more blood and inhaled as deeply as he could before shouting, "Who's there?" He groaned in pain.

Goku winced as his ears rang with Vegeta's voice. He listened for an answer.

"Is that you, Vegeta?" a boy's voice called out.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Of course!" he yelled.

"Gohan?" Goku called. "Son, where are you?"

"I'm here, Daddy!" the boy yelled as he ran toward them, jumping over boulders and leaping over craters. "Piccolo and I went out looking for you since you hadn't come back last night."

He finally reached the two full-blooded saiyans and knelt down next to his father. "Are you ok, Dad?"

"Well, I am really hungry," Goku answered, his characteristic grin on his face, though he was unable to hold it for long due to the pain in his jaw. And the rest of his face.

"You fool," they heard Vegeta say. "You can't even move and all you care about is your stomach."

Gohan looked over to the other saiyan and noted that he was in the same condition as his father. It reminded him of how they looked after they fought the first time. He shuddered at the thought. He had to remind himself that they had only been sparring. Vegeta was on their side now, at least until the androids were defeated.

"If we can get back to Capsule Corp," Vegeta started before taking a break to catch his breath, "the woman can have us… patched up… in no time." He spat out some blood and gasped a little, trying to get more air into his lungs.

"Are you admitting you need help, Vegeta?" Goku asked in shock.

"Shut up, Kakarrot. I'm not foolish enough to ignore these injuries."

"Then we'll take them to see Bulma," a deep voice said from above them. All three looked up to see Piccolo hovering above them, cape billowing in the wind. He landed next to Vegeta and knelt down.

Gohan nodded and awkwardly slung his father's arm over his shoulders and picked him up under his back and thighs, unable to reach his knees for a more comfortable position. Goku grunted and yelped in pain as his body was lifted and jostled a little bit. "Sorry, Daddy," Gohan apologized before floating up a few feet in the air to wait for his mentor.

Piccolo was not as gentle as the demi-saiyan. He threw Vegeta over his shoulder and was surprised to hear no complaints. He merely spit out another mouthful of blood. Piccolo smirked. Whether or not he was stronger, Vegeta was definitely tougher than Goku. Or at least more accustomed to severe pain.

Piccolo and Gohan carried the limp saiyans back to Capsule Corp, the trip taking nearly an hour because they weren't able to fly very fast for fear of hurting the saiyans worse. They landed softly in the front of the compound and went inside to find one of the Briefs.

"Bulma! Where are you?" Gohan called out when he got in the door.

"Gohan, sweetie, is that you?" The kitchen door opened to reveal Mrs. Brief, an apron tied around her waist and flour all over her face and hands. "Oh my goodness! What happened to Goku and Mr. Vegeta?" she cried as she ran over to them and started fretting over the half conscious saiyans.

"We need Bulma, Mrs. Brief," Gohan stated shyly. "They're hurt pretty bad and need to be taken care of."

"Oh, of course! I'll go get her right away. Poor boys, they look like they're in so much pain. My little girl can patch them right up though," she babbled as she ran down the hall and disappeared through a doorway on the right. Piccolo and Gohan exchanged glances and sighed.

A couple minutes later Bulma came running down the hall from the direction Mrs. Brief had just gone. She saw the four aliens in her hallway and gasped in shock. "Oh my Kami! What happened? We have to get them to the infirmary right away, follow me!" She turned and ran back down the hall, going left into another long hallway that led them to the infirmary.

Piccolo and Gohan followed her, trying to make the ride as smooth as they could for Goku and Vegeta. Bulma took them into a large room where there was lots of medical equipment set up. It looked mostly new, no doubt acquired after Vegeta arrived.

The saiyans were laid on two examination tables. A gasp escaped from Vegeta's lips while Goku yelled out in pain. Just looking over them, Bulma could see that they were in bad shape.

If she thought Vegeta had looked bad earlier that week, she was mistaken. One side of his face was swollen, his eye barely able to open. He had deep gashes on his arms, the skin on his knuckles completely gone. His right arm flopped limply from the elbow, indicating a broken bone. His chest had cuts and scrapes on it, but worse were several protruding ribs, the wounds bleeding steadily. The way he kept coughing up blood led her to believe that at least one of his lungs was punctured. She couldn't believe he was alive.

She looked over his legs, which were mostly covered in bruises, though there was one cut on his left calf that went to the bone. She asked Piccolo to turn him over so she could see his back and gasped when she saw it. One shoulder was burned raw. More cuts and scrapes littered across his back. His lower left side was a deep purple, showing signs of some serious internal damage, possibly a ruptured spleen.

"I can't take care of them both," she said, almost frantic. "Vegeta is bad enough he could die within an hour and Goku probably isn't much better. I need to call my dad and get some more doctors in here."

Bulma ran to the phone and picked it up, her shaking fingers barely able to push the right buttons as she dialed the number that would connect her to her father's lab. She waited impatiently as the phone rang several times, practically screaming when it finally picked up. "Dad! I need you in the infirmary _now! _I'm going to call some of the doctors from headquarters to come over, we're going to need help." She slammed the phone down without waiting for an answer and called the headquarters building.

By the time she hung up the phone, her father had come running into the lab, out of breath and hunched over with his hands on his knees. "What's wrong… Bulma?" he gasped out. She pointed at the two saiyans, unable to form words fast enough to answer.

"Oh my…" he murmured when he had reached the saiyans who were slipping in and out of consciousness. "I don't know how to treat all of these wounds. When will the doctors arrive?"

Bulma nearly cried when she heard that. "Soon. I told them if they're not here in under fifteen minutes I'd fire them all and make sure they never get a job again."

Dr. Brief nodded. "Let's take care of what we can while we wait for them to get here."

His calmness was infectious, and his daughter fed off it. She needed him to help her stay grounded so she wouldn't panic to the point of doing more harm than good. Piccolo and Gohan backed away, watching the two scientists work.

Bulma took chest x-rays of both of them and an x-ray of Vegeta's broken arm. She figured those were the most pressing injuries for the time being. While they developed, she cleaned the deeper wounds on Vegeta while Dr. Brief took care of Goku. She dabbed at the burn on his shoulder and applied some salve to it before turning to the deep cut on his calf. She cleaned it thoroughly and injected a local anesthetic before starting to sew it back up.

Dr. Brief was cleaning the myriad cuts and burns on Goku's chest when six doctors ran into the room, looking winded and scared for their lives. Or jobs. Bulma turned to them and screamed, "Don't just stand there, you idiots, get over here and help these two!"

The doctors practically tripped over their own feet as they hurried over to the two patients and began poking and prodding the unmoving bodies. "How are these men alive?" one doctor asked in awe.

As they were busy examining the saiyans, Bulma slapped the x-rays up on the light for them to see the state of their ribs. As suspected, Vegeta had a punctured lung as well as six broken ribs. Goku was only slightly better with two broken ribs.

"Oh, hell, we have to operate, now!" the tallest doctor shouted when he saw the x-rays. They pushed Vegeta's table away to an adjacent operating room. Bulma watched them take him away, knowing that she would be no help if she followed. Three of the doctors remained behind, tending to Goku, whose injuries were mostly superficial, though serious.

She numbly sank into a chair as she watched the doctors work on her best friend. She prayed to Kami that Vegeta would be ok. Goku was now hooked up to machines that measured his vitals, and she was relieved to see that he was doing fine. More than likely his saiyan physiology was keeping him alive where any human would have died hours ago.

Bulma buried her head in her hands as she waited for news on Vegeta. His breathing had been so shallow and ragged and he had kept coughing up blood. Yet he had not cried out in pain or asked for anything to stop the pain. He silently endured it. 'Always the tough guy,' she thought. 'Even when you could be dying, you don't show any pain. Would it really be weak, just to make some sound? To cry out, scream in agony?' Little did she know why he stayed so silent in his suffering.

Vegeta was unconscious. The doctors had been horrified at the amount of anesthetic his body required to finally slip fully out of consciousness, but it was required for them to perform surgery on him. The extent of damage his body had endured was mind-boggling. None of them could believe that this man was still alive, much less awake when they arrived.

_"I will make you scream, little monkey," the scratchy, feminine voice screamed angrily._

_ Vegeta was chained to a metal wall, his bonds draining his ki so he could not break free. He was facing the wall, his tail curled around his leg as he clenched his teeth. The ki whip cracked down on his bare back again, burning and tearing away his skin. Another river of blood poured down his back and legs, yet he did not so much as whimper._

_ Another lash of the whip. His body jerked with pain, but he did not cry out. He forced back the tears that were forming in his eyes even as his body begged him to just give in and scream, if only to end the torture._

_ "I will make you let go of your damned pride!"_

_ The whip landed on his back again, harder than before. Vegeta was sure that it had taken away a good chunk of muscle that time, but he bit his tongue until it bled to keep from making any sound. To keep from admitting defeat at the lizard's hands._

_ His blood was running freely and he felt weak and light-headed. His breathing came in ragged gasps as his vital organs threatened to shut down. The whip tore at his body again, and his legs gave out from under him. His weight was supported only by the shackles on his wrists. _

_ "Sir," Zarbon interjected, "I think he will die if you continue."_

_ "Shut up, Zarbon! I know my monkey can handle more than this." Frieza was furious. Vegeta had failed his last purge mission, letting a small handful of civilians live. When the new owners of the planet arrived, they were attacked and many were killed. They refused to pay for the planet. All blame was placed on the young prince's shoulders as a result._

_ Another crack of the whip. And another. Vegeta's white ribs were bared to the world, and still Frieza did not stop. But the saiyan prince refused to be broken. He would not scream._

Vegeta had barely survived that round of torture. Nappa had carried him to the medical bay of the ship, unsure if the prince would survive the minute long trip between Frieza's throne room and the rejuvenation tank. The young prince, then only eleven years old, was barely clinging to life when the synthetic saiyan DNA engulfed his body. It took nearly a week for him to recover. After that, Frieza would frequently beat him to an inch of his life, but was never satisfied with even the softest whimper of pain from the proud saiyan prince.

The prince woke up much earlier than a human would have, only to find a doctor sewing his chest back up. He could breathe easier now and some of the pain in his body had dulled. The doctors cried out in surprise when Vegeta opened his eyes and slowly rocked his head back and forth, trying to figure out where he was. He didn't even seem to notice the pain in his chest.

"Finish it," he said, his words thick and unclear. He hated waking up from the effects of anesthetic. Those moments held some of his worst memories.

Trying to keep his hands from shaking, the doctor finished stitching Vegeta's chest and stepped back from him, ready to let someone else finish taking care of the inhuman patient.

Vegeta's mind wandered back to the dream he had while he underwent surgery. He smirked when he thought about Frieza's rage, his hatred for his unbreakable pride. Physically beaten to the point of death, he had remained defiant. The beast within him would not allow the pink lizard to tame him and shape him into another of his mindless puppets. He had endured endless torture, yet he had come out victorious.

"Where is the blue-haired woman?" he asked, still groggy. "I wish to see her."

"Y-yes, sir, I'll go get her at once," one of the doctors said as they all flew out of the room. Vegeta snorted, ignoring the pain it caused. Apparently summoning one woman was a group effort. Fools.

Bulma ran into the room a minute later, unaccompanied by any of the doctors. "Oh my Kami, Vegeta, are you alright?" she asked frantically, her hands cupping his face as she looked into his eyes.

"I will live, Woman," he answered shortly. "Is that clown Kakarrot still alive?"

She smiled and ran her hand through his thick hair. "Yeah, he's fine. I don't think he was nearly as badly injured as you, you big jerk! I was so worried about you." Vegeta could see the tears in her eyes, threatening to fall. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold them back and pounded his chest with her fist, forgetting all about his current physical state.

Normally she could not have hurt him if she tried, but her hitting him sent a shot of pain through his chest. "Woman, don't hit me," he groaned, his voice angry and tired. She gasped when she realized what she had done and stroked his cheek instead. "I do not know what a friend is, but I don't think they go around hitting each other's broken ribs."

She laughed a little, though with little amusement. "You jerk, I hate you! How could you do this to yourself? You idiot, you fucking idiot," she shouted until her voice broke and tears slipped down her cheeks. "I didn't know if you were going to live or die and I couldn't forgive you if you went and died because you _sparred_ with Goku."

Vegeta cocked his head and watched her closely with his good eye. She was crying for him again, and he once again couldn't understand why. She would have been upset if he died. Who had ever cared if he lived before? _Maybe_ Nappa and Raditz, but simply because their lives were only guaranteed as long as he still had his.

"Why do you cry for me again, Woman? Can you not see that I will be fine?"

"I know! I know, Vegeta, but I can't stand to see you like this. It hurts me to see you in such pain," she mumbled, voice shaking with more unshed tears. "You jerk, you big jerk."

"Pain? This is nothing to me. I endured this much pain and more, sometimes days on end, when I was Frieza's slave. Pain is what I know. I have grown immune to it, so do not worry." His voice had started out strong, expressionless, as if he were simply relating facts, but by the end she could sense some sadness because of the truth behind his words.

"No one should have to experience such suffering," she whispered, stroking his hair as she gazed into his ebony orbs. "Not even you, Vegeta."

"Do not pity me, Woman," he said threateningly.

"Never."

He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, his body's energy being focused on healing itself. He wished he had a rejuvenation tank that would make the healing process faster, but he could only rely on the primitive medical technology of the planet he was on.

Vegeta opened his eyes again when he felt the woman's lips on his forehead, reminding him of the night he had opened himself up to her so candidly. He looked at her curiously. "What does it mean when you do that?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "When you… when you… whatever it is you just did."

"You mean when I kiss you?" She was stroking his hair again, the feathery strands tickling her fingers.

"Is that what you call it? I've seen you do the same to others, except on their cheeks. And with the weakling…" he didn't bother finishing his statement. He figured she could understand what he was implying.

She smiled and her fingers moved down to the side of his head behind his ear. Subconsciously she lightly traced her hands over that spot until his eyelids drooped and his jaw fell slack. She didn't notice as she answered, "A kiss is a sign of affection between humans. I guess depending on where you kiss someone means something special. Like a kiss on the cheek is between family members and close friends. And a kiss on the lips is shared between lovers."

Vegeta was hardly listening. He instinctually leaned his head into her hand as she scratched behind his ear, and for some reason she seemed to take the hint and scratched a little harder, increasing his pleasure. A deep rumbling sound erupted from his chest as she continued, "And a kiss on the forehead, I think, is to show someone that you care about them. I think it's most common for parents to kiss their children on their foreheads, but it's not exclusive to that."

"Woman…" he murmured, trying to get her attention.

That was when she heard the vibrations from his chest. She looked down at his face and smiled when she saw the look on his face. He looked like he had taken some pretty strong drugs. He was still leaning into her hand despite himself, and she realized what was going on.

"Woman," he tried again. He desperately wanted her to stop her ministrations, but he was unable to control himself.

"Yes, Vegeta?" she asked, scratching more purposefully.

"S-stop that," he said so softly she could hardly hear him. He tried to move his head from her hand, but it was as if his body was no longer connected to his brain as it refused to comply. His purring grew louder and his eyes shut completely, his face relaxing in pleasure.

She had heard correctly, but she couldn't believe it. He looked too much like he was enjoying what she was doing. "Stop?"

He tried to nod his head, but it just didn't work. He tried to speak again. "Yes… Wo…man." His tail was slowly curling and uncurling at his side, gently brushing against Bulma's legs.

"Ok, if that's what you want," she said, smirking slightly. She took her hand away from his head and watched as his eyes slowly opened, as if unsure about what was going on around him. He closed his mouth and smacked her leg hard with his tail as he glared at her.

"Do not do that to me."

"Well, _sorry_, it kind of looked like you were enjoying it."

He huffed indignantly. Did this woman understand nothing? Just because doing something felt good didn't mean it was appropriate! Outside of family and mating, it was largely taboo to do anything to elicit feelings of pleasure in another saiyan. They were _warriors_, not a bunch of sissies.

"Well, anyway," she said, "I need to finish cleaning and treating all these cuts, buddy."

She filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed some hydrogen peroxide out of the cabinet above the sink. She found a clean rag in a drawer and brought them over to where the saiyan was lying, still immobile.

She dipped the rag in the water and dabbed at the cuts to remove most of the sweat and dirt from his wounds. "This might sting a little," she warned as she opened the bottle of peroxide. She poured it over his cuts, the chemical foaming and stinging as it came into contact with bacteria. She patted his cuts dry and was pleased to find that there was no new blood on the rag.

Vegeta frowned when he felt the stinging, but he did not find it too uncomfortable. In a strange way, it was almost enjoyable. He watched the blue-haired woman rummage through the drawers, looking for something else.

"Aha!" she said as she pulled out some antibiotic ointment and bandages. "Finally found it." She returned to his side and carefully applied the ointment before placing the bandages over his cuts. "Knowing you, these will probably be healed by tonight. I don't know how long your arm and ribs will take, though."

"They'll heal soon enough. Do you usually just let a broken arm heal on its own, or do you do something to help it?" he asked, looking down at his limp appendage. Sure enough, the doctors, in their haste to treat his punctured lung and broken ribs, had forgotten about his arm.

Bulma sighed and rubbed her forehead. Were those idiots completely incompetent? She obviously had to do just about everything herself. So, she set to work.

An hour later, Vegeta's arm was in a cast and he was hooked up to an IV to replace the fluids his body had lost through bleeding. Obviously a blood transfusion was impossible since there was no matching saiyan blood to be had, but his body would recover quickly enough on its own. Bulma was amazed by and thankful for saiyan physiology allowing for rapid healing.

"So I think," Bulma said, poking Vegeta gently in the sternum, "you're not going to be training again for a couple days."

He grumbled in response. "Obviously."

"Good! That gives me more time to get started on your new gravity room," she said enthusiastically, "Oh that reminds me, I want to show you the blueprints for it I drew up last night. I think you'll like it." With that, she left his room and went to go get the blueprint out of her lab. Several minutes later she returned and spread the paper out in front of him to look over.

She started to explain what everything meant, but he looked up at her and scowled. "Woman, I am not stupid. I know what these things mean, though your handwriting is atrocious."

Bulma shut her mouth, clearly surprised. "Oh."

Vegeta shook his head. Everywhere he went people seemed to mistake him for a brainless idiot. They didn't realize he was capable of learning almost anything. He was fluent in over one hundred languages, understood complicated physics, and could do the hardest mathematics in his sleep, among other things. He was looking over the blueprints, somewhat impressed, when something caught his eye.

"This equation is wrong," he told her. "The walls would collapse with only 50Gs if you don't redo it."

"Huh?" She looked at the equation he was pointing at, but didn't see anything wrong.

"Let me show you. Get me paper and a writing utensil." Bulma found a notepad for him and handed him a pencil, which he looked at in disgust when he saw bite marks all over it.

"This is what I mean," he said as he started writing out a formula she had never seen before. Soon the whole page was covered in calculations she wasn't sure she could have done with a computer. He worked through it quickly, as if he had the whole thing memorized. It was hard to believe that he was making the calculations for the first time.

Bulma sat in the chair next to his infirmary bed and went through the page of mathematics she could hardly follow. "Where did you learn this?" she asked, obviously in awe, "I have never seen anything like this before."

"I have been to dozens of planets with highly advanced technology. I picked up on many things while I was there."

"I thought you would have been too busy killing people to take a math class."

Vegeta snorted. "Not every planet I went to was purged. I spent a lot of time on Frieza's base planets. And it's not as if I needed anyone to teach me, I just had to see how it was done."

Bulma looked at him wide-eyed. He learned math like this, that made her knowledge of Calculus III look like a walk in the park, just by seeing it done, no explanations or anything? That was unbelievable. And she told him, "I don't believe it, Vegeta, there's no way you could teach yourself math like this."

Vegeta frowned and looked up at the ceiling, shoving her blueprints away. "You should not underestimate me, Woman. I was bred to perfection in more ways than just my fighting abilities." The tip of his tail flicked back and forth in agitation, and she knew that she had offended him.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," she said softly, "It's just hard to believe. It would probably take me a year to learn this with a tutor helping me."

"Hn."

"What did you mean by 'bred to perfection' anyway?"

The saiyan still wasn't looking at her, instead brooding over her slight to his intelligence. He didn't feel like talking to her anymore, yet for some reason he couldn't fathom, he wanted her to know the answer to her question. He told himself that it was because he did not want someone like her thinking he was inferior. And still he was reluctant because he knew how much the woman prided herself on being a genius. She was, in many ways, simple-minded comparatively.

He tried to work his way out of answering. "I don't think you want to know, Woman." He hoped she would read into it more than she should just so he could leave it at that.

She wasn't falling for it. "Oh come on, Vegeta. I know it has nothing to do with Frieza, so it can't be that bad." Perhaps he would have to give her more credit next time. He sighed.

"Consider all those generations, bred to produce the best king possible in every way: strength, wisdom, ability to lead, even telepathic communication. I am the culmination of over a millennium of selective breeding." He stopped there, figuring the woman could draw her own conclusions from what information he had already given her.

One thing had caught her attention more than the rest. "Telepathic communication?"

"Hn."

"What do you mean, Vegeta?"

He turned his head to face away from her, suddenly finding the plain white wall very interesting. He was silent for a few minutes before he answered, "Saiyans used to be a telepathic race. Generally, saiyans could only form telepathic links with members of their tribe, but a few were able to link with any other saiyan."

He paused, letting his words sink in. If he was lucky, she would accept that as the entire explanation and he would not have to continue. Unfortunately, her curiosity nearly matched that of a certain saiyan prince. "You're one of those few, aren't you?"

Vegeta closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "The only one who had such an ability in the past three hundred years. It had become exclusive to the royal family, and many feared it had died out completely." He wished his body would respond to him, but it still protested angrily whenever he tried to move it. In his vulnerable state, his mind was shouting at him to bolt, get away from the source of his discomfort. Get away from the blue-haired woman before she forced him to recollect memories that made him nearly lose his sanity.

Bulma pulled herself out of her thoughts after a minute and asked softly, "What is it like? Could you always hear the other saiyans? Or could they hear your thoughts?"

There it was, the question he wanted her to take back, make it so it had never been asked. He could have refused to answer. He knew that answering would only result in reopening the unhealed wound. She wanted to know what it was like? It wasn't as if his mind had been constantly cluttered with every thought of every saiyan. He had much more control than to let _that_ happen. No, it was more like a subconscious awareness of all the saiyans. He could speak to them, if he opened a mental link with them, but he hardly used that ability. Mostly, he used his telepathy to draw comfort from their presence even when they were far away. How could he express that to the human woman? She could never understand that level of connection with others. She prided herself on her closeness with her friends, but it wasn't the same.

A wave of anger passed through Vegeta's body, burning away the growing lump in his throat and drying the tears in his eyes. He was furious with himself for letting this horrible human female make him think about things he had tried to forget for over two decades. He had been successful most of the time, but now here he was remembering again, and as always it _hurt_. It was not a physical pain he could block out, it was a gut-wrenching, heart-shattering pain that caused the deepest suffering he could not escape until it gradually passed.

He turned back to her, teeth bared and eyes blazing with unrepressed rage burning hotly in his ebony orbs. She felt as though his gaze was burning right through her, and she backed away, not sure what had upset him. His tail was twitching erratically in his fury and his fists clenched despite the pain. "V-Vegeta? What's wrong?" She heard a low growl that shook her to her core. She was somewhat glad that he couldn't move right now as the feral look came back to his eyes and his tail bristled.

Vegeta glared at the frightened, trembling woman at his side. She was the cause of his pain! He wanted to rip her heart out of her chest, but he couldn't move. He snarled, "You and your foolish questions, Woman! Do they ever cease?" He tried to move again but his body just wouldn't let him. "Whenever I am around you, I… I…" he sputtered angrily, not able to form a coherent thought.

_'You make me remember what I have worked so hard to forget!'_

Bulma screamed in pain and grabbed her head in her hands, clawing at her temples as his voice tore through her head. She could feel his pain like it was her own. At that moment she wasn't even able to wonder how she had heard him without him speaking, she was just trying to get the horrible, agonizing feeling to go away.

_'This is what it is like, Woman,' _his telepathic voice growled_, 'to have telepathic links to every member of the saiyan race. To feel them being ripped away all at once when they were slaughtered like sheep.'_ Another unbearable wave of pain flashed through her mind. She couldn't breathe in her agony and she couldn't escape it. She let out a bloodcurdling scream and fainted.

Vegeta watched impassively as she fell to the floor. He was too far gone in his moment of insanity to care. He considered it fitting that she should experience what she had caused, opening a festering wound that would never heal. Out of it poured the deepest grief, the hottest fury, the coldest hatred, the blackest loneliness. No consolation could ever lessen its effects, no matter how many years had passed since it happened.

Vegeta turned when he saw Piccolo, Gohan, and Dr. Brief running into his room to see what was going on. They had heard Bulma's scream and dropped everything and ran, anxious to make sure the saiyan was not hurting her. What they found was Vegeta still lying helplessly in his bed and Bulma crumpled on the floor. She was deathly pale and covered in beads of sweat.

Piccolo was the first to speak, growling, "What did you do to her, Vegeta?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "If you haven't noticed, Namek, I can't even move. What could I have possibly done to the woman?"

By that time Dr. Brief and Gohan were on the floor next to Bulma, gently shaking her to help her regain consciousness. Finally, much to everyone's relief (aside from Vegeta), Bulma's eyes fluttered open and she groaned, still holding her head, which felt like it was spinning out of control. Slowly, her color returned and she stopped shaking.

When she tried to sit up, Dr. Brief pushed her back down. "Now, dear, you need to just lie down for a few minutes. It looks like your blood pressure dropped dramatically and you need to take it easy." When she made no complaint he ran his hand through her sweaty, tangled hair a couple times before standing back up. "I'm going to get her a glass of water, I'll be back in a minute," he told the others as he left the room.

Once the doctor was out of earshot, both Gohan and Piccolo turned to Vegeta, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He returned their looks with amused indifference. His mind was still mostly unfocused because of the lingering pain.

"What?" he asked tiredly. He wasn't in the mood for explaining himself to the two warriors, especially when he was still unable to defend himself.

"We know you did something to her," Gohan said, his voice shaking in barely restrained anger, "so what did you do?"

Vegeta sighed. These pests would never leave him alone. "She asked a question. It is not my fault she could not handle the answer."

Piccolo clenched his fists at his sides and demanded, "What do you mean?"

"Guys," a weak voice rose from the floor, "It's ok. He's right. I shouldn't have asked."

"Are you alright, Bulma?" Gohan asked.

"I'm fine, my head just hurts," she answered, then added when she saw him glare at the bedridden saiyan, "He didn't touch me. Don't worry."

Still distrustful, Piccolo nodded and walked out of the room to go check up on Goku. Gohan stayed behind, wanting to make sure Bulma was ok while Dr. Brief was gone. Vegeta stayed silent, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, not sure he could hear her. "I didn't know—"

"Don't bother apologizing, Woman," he cut her off, "It doesn't matter."

Bulma frowned but didn't say any more. Now that the pain had subsided, she was thinking about his words and the fact that they had been spoken directly into her head. He had only mentioned being able to form mental links with other saiyans, but he had done it with her.

"How did you…?" She didn't get a chance to finish her question before he answered.

"It's not impossible to do so with another race if I have enough will behind it."

She got the impression that he wanted the discussion to end there. She sighed and reluctantly dropped the subject. Dr. Brief came back to the room holding a glass of water and handed it to his daughter, who was now allowed to sit up. She sipped at the water for a while before dragging herself up into the chair again.

"Are you feeling better, dear?" Dr. Brief asked Bulma.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine." Bulma looked at the notepad that had fallen to the floor and reached out to pick it up. Gohan saw what she was doing and grabbed the notepad and handed it to her, noticing the sharp, elegant handwriting scrawled across the page.

Bulma handed it off to her father and explained, "It's an equation Vegeta used to calculate the necessary structural build to withstand high levels of gravity in his new gravity room." She looked to see her father eyeing the paper, fingers stroking his moustache.

"Interesting," he mumbled, "it looks correct, I think."

Vegeta snorted. "You have no idea what it means, do you?"

Dr. Brief looked up at the saiyan, face tinged with pink. "Well, I," he stuttered, "I mean, well, no actually."

"It's ok, Dad," Bulma said comfortingly, "This stuff is way over my head too."

Gohan looked from Vegeta to the scientists and back again. If he understood correctly, Vegeta had successfully stumped both Bulma and Dr. Brief with some mathematical formula. If that were the case, did that make him smarter than the world's two greatest geniuses? He peeked over the doctor's arm to see the equation. It made his head hurt just looking at it.

"Well, it's not much use to us if we can't decipher it, is it?"

Vegeta was growing tired of their confused babbling. "Give me that," he ordered, indicating the notepad. "I'll put it into terms you simple-minded humans can comprehend."

Ignoring the insult directed at his intelligence, Dr. Brief handed the paper back to the irate prince. "That would be wonderful, my boy," he said, interested to see the equation translated into something that made some sense.

Vegeta thought for a minute, tapping the chewed up pencil against the paper before he started scribbling a long equation down. After a while, he finished and presented it to the Briefs.

"Calculus! I can understand _this_," Bulma said in excitement. Dr. Brief nodded his agreement as he checked the saiyan's work. It was flawless. He was dumbfounded.

While the two scientists talked about the changes they would need to make in the design of the gravity room, Vegeta's mind had finally calmed down and he found himself very tired. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of scientific jargon being bounced back and forth between two highly impressed brilliant minds.

_A/N: Here it is, the longest chapter in the whole story! About 13,000 words. This is also one of my favorite chapters, mostly because of the Vegeta/Goku "conversation." I was snickering to myself the whole time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoyed it too. Am I making Vegeta too perfect? Probably. He's the strongest, smartest, etc, etc. In my defense, it wasn't as if he was portrayed as stupid in DBZ._

_I also admit I know nothing about medical stuff. Personally, I avoid it as much as possible because I hate doctors and hospitals and all things medical-related. So, I'm sorry if anything was done wrong. If you have more knowledge on this subject than me, by all means, tell me and I'll fix it._

_Song: "Misery" by Maroon 5_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Wake up you're dreaming and I can't stand your screamin'  
Drowning out these prayers just some words without meanin'  
Spare all the preachin' my secret's worth keepin'  
No one understands like I do_

It was early evening when Vegeta awoke, the bright lights glaring down on him as he blinked to adjust to the light. He looked around and for once found that he was alone. He took a deep breath and was pleased to find that it did not cause him much discomfort.

There were clean bandages on his wounds and his muscles were finally willing to obey his commands. He ripped the IV out of his arm and sat up in bed. He pulled the various electrodes off his body and ignored the alarmed squeals of the flat-lining machines behind him. Vegeta waited for someone to run in to check on him, but no one came. He shrugged, not upset in the least, and slid off the bed.

He ran out of the infirmary wing and upstairs to his guest room and took the paper hospital gown off before going into his bathroom for a shower. He pulled the bandages off and turned the hot water on. Only the deepest cuts were still visible, the others having disappeared completely, not even leaving scars behind. The burn on his shoulder was still sore, but mostly healed. The hot water irritated it, but he didn't care.

He noticed that when he moved his left leg, there was a pulling sensation on his calf. He saw that there were stitches on it, evidence that the small visible cut had once been very deep. At the edges there was pale scar tissue forming.

The dried sweat, blood, and dirt washed off, Vegeta got out of the shower and dried himself. When his stomach growled he remembered he had had nothing to eat since dinner the night before. He went into his room and pulled on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, covering the fading purple splotch where his ruptured spleen was nearly repaired.

Once dressed, the saiyan prince went downstairs and to the kitchen, where he could smell dinner cooking. As predicted, he found Mrs. Brief stirring food in several pots on the stove. She turned when she heard him come in.

"Oh, Mr. Vegeta dear, there you are," she chirped, her grin growing wider. "Bulma's looking for you since you left the infirmary. I know you wouldn't want to worry her, you're such a nice young man…" her cheerful voice droned on but Vegeta had long since stopped listening.

He grabbed the full bowl of fruit from the counter and a box of crackers from the cupboard above and left the kitchen. He turned down the hall and went to a set of large double doors. Pushing them open, he walked in and was greeted with the fresh scent of animals, running water, and foliage. He walked deep into the indoor garden and sat in his clearing to eat his snack.

Vegeta made quick work of the crackers and fruit, his stomach growling in frustration at being teased with a tiny snack not even substantial enough to curb the pangs of hunger. He had to wait a while longer before dinner would be ready.

The prince laid his tail in his lap and gently stroked it. As he had done so many times before, he sat and contentedly watched the light gleam off each individual hair. The glossy fur, softer than silk, ran smoothly under his calloused fingers. The gentle, repetitive motion never failed to calm his mind, which is what his agitated thoughts needed at the time. The woman's infernal questioning that day had reawakened a dormant part of his conscious and now it refused to be buried again.

There was almost total emptiness where there had once been perpetual liveliness. He had been connected to an entire race of people, able to feel the presence of millions at any given moment. But then, in one horrifying moment, they were gone. The stillness weighed heavily on his mind.

_Vegeta was on a purging mission when he was eight years old. He had been sent alone, the inhabitants of the planet being of average strength. As usual, they underestimated the power of a boy and at first refused to fight him, but after he killed the society's elders, they took up arms against him._

_ For two days he traveled around the planet, wreaking havoc in their cities and destroying any spaceships so that none could escape with their lives. He laughed in the faces of mothers holding their children as he slaughtered them and mocked their greatest warriors as he defeated them with ease. There was no honor in his killing, and he knew it, but bloodlust was his only guide. He had already been working for Frieza for nearly three years. Whatever conscience he had was blackened, dead._

_ He was in the midst of battle with a group of strong warriors when he felt it. A sense of foreboding he could not place. He could feel the conscious of one saiyan soldier colliding with his, not demanding entry, but clearly agitated beyond the level expected in battle. Vegeta tried to ignore it, but it was persistent. Somehow he knew that it was warning him, of what he did not know._

_ Quickly dispatching the warriors, he threw their dead bodies into the heap he had been forming during his purge. Hundreds, thousands of bodies were piled in a circle around him. He checked his scouter to determine if there were any survivors, but found none. He was careful not to ever miss a single civilian since the purge where he had neglected some, deeming them unworthy of his efforts. The beating that followed taught him never to let a single person live._

_ Vegeta sat down on a severed leg in the middle of the carnage to eat after completing the purge. As he pulled a ration bar out of his pocket, he felt it. The pain of his people, the terror. He felt his flesh burning, his eyes were blinded with a fiery orange blast. The minds of his people had collectively forced their way into his, screaming for a savior, for vengeance. In an instant it was over, and all that followed was absolute silence. Sickening, deadly silence. He was alone._

_ He started to eat his ration bar, his mind desperately searching for the missing saiyans. It could not accept that they were gone. Minutes turned into hours as his mind would not relent in its mission. A chill fell over him as the planet's sun set, but the coldness inside was much more real. Vegeta felt numb. It had to be true, but it couldn't be! Vegeta's people were all killed together in an instant. And he had a good idea about how._

_ His scouter crackled to life. "Prince Vegeta, do you copy, sir?" a man's voice demanded._

_ "I'm here." Vegeta remembered his unfinished ration bar and took another bite of it._

_ "Sir, unfortunate news from Lord Frieza. Planet Vegeta was struck by a large asteroid today, and-and destroyed."_

_ "And? You're sure?"_

_ "Affirmative, sir. Lord Frieza sends his sympathy and regrets. As of now, you are the only known survivor."_

_ "Oh. Really?"He finished his ration bar, swallowing hard._

_ "Would you like to send a reply, sir?"_

_ "No, no reply."_

_ "Very well, sir. Over and out." The connection cut off. Vegeta sat in silence, his suspicions finally confirmed. The only known survivor. He knew that all the saiyans had been back on Vegeta-sei as dictated by the lizard. No doubt he had planned on killing them that day, and sent the prince away on a solo purge so he could keep him as a slave forever._

_ It was a long time before Vegeta could feel again, the numbness in his mind having infected his body. When feeling came back, a flood of emotions overwhelmed him. Anger, despair, hopelessness, but most of all, sorrow, the deepest grief one could ever feel. He had lost everything. Everything. His home, his kingdom, his parents, his race. The single surviving saiyan._

_ That was the last day he had his sanity for many years._

Vegeta remembered that moment of his life as clear as day, as if it had just happened. He could smell the rotting corpses around him, the spilled blood. He could taste the bland ration bar, filled with nutrients but little else. The coldness he had felt, both inside and out, washed over him and his ears were filled with the deafening silence.

"Damn you, Frieza," he muttered under his breath, "What you did to me, to my people. It still haunts me. You stole my destiny, you took my life from me." He clenched his fists so tightly his nails drew blood from his palms. "Damn you!" he roared, followed by an earth-shaking howl of rage, grief, and hatred. Vegeta screamed, howling his agony that had only grown over time. His fists slammed down on the ground over and over, shaking the compound and cracking the floor of the room.

The animals in the garden all ran from the prince and the birds in the trees took to the air, desperately searching for a better hiding place. The noise that surrounded the prince only made him scream louder, demanding the world listen to his pain.

In the living room, Goku and Gohan jumped to their feet, sensing the uneven flares of the prince's ki. They ran through the compound to the epicenter of the small quake, throwing the doors of the indoor garden open. The feral roar that erupted from the trees was nearly deafening to their sensitive ears as they stepped into the room, unsure of what to do. They didn't have time to think about it before Bulma came racing down the hall and nearly collided with them.

"What's going on?" she yelled over the noise, holding onto Goku's arm to keep from falling over.

Goku turned to her, worry written on his normally carefree features. "I don't know, Bulma. Something's wrong with Vegeta." That was the last thing he said before a wave of pain pierced through his mind and he collapsed to the floor, burying his head in his arms. He screamed in pain and writhed on the floor, unable to stop it.

"Oh no, Vegeta," Bulma whispered before running into the trees.

Gohan knelt next to his father, but found him inconsolable. "What's wrong, Daddy? What's happening to you?" The fear in his voice did not help matters any.

Bulma leapt into the clearing and found Vegeta still pounding on the ground, his knuckles bleeding again and his eyes clamped shut as he screamed. His voice was hoarse, his chest heaving with the effort, but he did not stop. He _could_ not stop. He fell to the ground and scratched at the soil around him, trying to get a grip on something, anything, to pull himself out of the bottomless depths of his suffering. His tail flailed around in his distress, looking for all the world like it wanted to escape the pain even if it meant separating itself from his body.

"Vegeta," she shouted, trying to get his attention, "Vegeta, it's ok! I'm here, please, can you hear me Vegeta?" She lowered herself to her knees to plead with him, but he wasn't looking in her direction and wouldn't have been able to see her anyway since his eyes were closed. She held her arms out to him but had to retract them to avoid him hitting her in his uncontrolled movements.

He panted and sweat poured down his face, his dirty hands smearing mud across his features as he clawed at his head, wanting to pull the painful thoughts out.

Back at the entrance to the garden Goku was still rolling on the ground, clutching his head between his hands and screaming. Gohan kept trying to get his attention, but there was no breaking him out of whatever had trapped him in its cruel grip. "Please, Daddy, stop, you have to stop," Gohan begged, shaking his father's shoulders. It was hopeless.

"Vegeta! Vegeta, please, listen to me, please, please," Bulma sobbed as she tried to get through to the prince. Finally, his howling stopped when his voice would no longer work, leaving him whimpering like an abused pup. He curled into a ball, his tail still flailing about. Bulma took a deep breath and inched closer to him, hand raised. "Vegeta? It's me, Bulma," she told him softly as she laid her hand on his back. He flinched away violently.

She strained her ears to hear when she thought she heard him murmuring "Help…me…p-please, help…" It was spoken so softly she thought perhaps she had imagined it. It didn't seem like something Vegeta would say, after all.

Bulma placed her hand on his back again and this time he didn't flinch away, but his body did start quivering as if he were deathly afraid of her touch. Her heart broke for him and tears started falling for him. "Vegeta, it's me, your friend. Bulma."

There was a pause. "Bulma?"

"Yes, Vegeta, I'm Bulma. I'm not going to hurt you. Are you ok?"

"They're gone. Every one of them, gone."

"Who, Vegeta?"

His quivering intensified, and if it were possible, he drew himself into a tighter ball. Even his tail curled tightly around him, its hold around his waist unbreakable. "I could feel them all before. They were… there, near my mind, but they're gone now. All gone." Bulma's heart sank.

"No, Vegeta, they're not all gone. There's one left," she said, trying anything to help him come back to reality. "There's Kakarrot."

Vegeta fell silent. In his mind he frantically searched for the one consciousn left to fill the void. One mind that would brush against him, taking away the devastating loneliness. He probed and prodded for many minutes before finally finding what he was searching for. An invisible thread linking him to another being. Kakarrot.

"He's…he's there."

_'Kakarrot, are you there?'_

_'Vegeta, what's going on? Why can I hear you in my head?'_

_ 'You're alive. That is all I needed to know.'_ The mental link cut off.

Vegeta opened his eyes and looked around. The first thing he laid eyes on was the blue-haired woman kneeling in front of him, crying. He wondered why she was always crying when she was around him. He mentally shrugged.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he echoed snidely.

"How do you feel?"

"Like my brain just exploded."

Bulma smiled. He never was one to sugar coat things. That was one thing she really appreciated about him. His honesty. Blunt and to the point. "What happened?"

He looked at her for a moment, deciding whether or not to explain. While it was in a way her fault it happened, he did not want to place blame on her. His mind had lost contact with the real world, returning him to the time and place where he had lost his people and subsequently his sanity. He was lucky the episode had not lasted longer than it did.

"Memories."

"Oh, Vegeta, it must have been awful," she said as she pulled him into an embrace. For once he let her without even thinking about pulling away.

"The worst," he agreed, resting his head against her chest.

An unshakable feeling of guilt spread through her heart as she held him. "Was it because of what I made you remember this morning?"

Vegeta sighed, his breath hot against her skin. "Yes, Woman."

"I must be the world's worst friend," she whispered.

"I wouldn't know." He laid down on his side, pulling her down with him since she wouldn't let him out of her embrace. He nuzzled into her chest, smudging her blouse with mud. Bulma stroked his hair, careful not to scratch too much behind his ears. Her other hand rubbed his side. Behind him, his tail curled at the tip and beat against the ground every few seconds.

There was a noise from the woods. Neither Bulma nor Vegeta moved to acknowledge it before a man in an orange gi joined them in the clearing. "Hey, guys, what's going on?"

_ 'Leave us, Kakarrot.'_

"Huh? Vegeta was that you?" Goku frowned in confusion and scratched his head.

"Hn."

Goku finally seemed to realize the compromising position his friends were in and a thought struck him across the head. 'Trunks! Maybe they're finally falling for each other!' Discreetly, or at least quickly, Goku made his way back through the forest to leave Bulma and Vegeta alone. He swung his arm around Gohan's shoulders and led him out of the garden.

"Third class fool," Vegeta grumbled.

"Yeah, but at least he's a saiyan," Bulma reminded him, knowing that it was his connection with Goku that had finally brought him back to his senses.

"Barely."

"Enough."

Vegeta grunted his assent and exhaled slowly, emptying all of the air out of his lungs before taking another breath. The woman's scent was strong and comforting to him. It represented something that he was beginning to realize would be a rock for him to hold onto while the storms in his psyche raged. 'That,' he thought, 'must be what a friend is.'

He listened to her steady heartbeat for some time, its rhythm matching his own. He put his arm around her waist, the cast preventing him from feeling her warmth beneath his arm. Bulma smiled and resumed stroking his thick flame of hair. She decided that she would enjoy this moment for all it was worth, knowing that once his body was in good shape again, he would spend all of his time training and she would hardly see him around. She began to wonder if there was any way she could get him to do something with her regularly. He probably wouldn't be willing to do anything unless it was some physical activity, but she could hardly spar with him. She tucked that thought away to ponder another time.

Vegeta's mind was still stuck on the anomaly he was faced with. Where he had least expected it, from one whom it was most unlikely, he had gained something he had never even considered before. A friend. Someone who would stand by his side through anything, not because of his royal status, but because she cared about him for _him_. She was his friend. _His_. Subconsciously he pulled her closer and his tail wrapped possessively around her thigh, earning a confused and surprised mewling, but nothing more.

Time passed slowly for Bulma. She tried to ignore the fact that she really enjoyed feeling the weight of his arm around her, the protective way he held her. With him, she felt safe, knowing nothing could ever harm her if he was with her. Being with him felt different than being with any other man. Goku was like a younger brother to her; she loved him dearly and knew that he would always try to save her, but it seemed more out of duty than anything. With Yamcha, she just knew that he would do his best to protect her, but his protection could be so oppressive, like instead of defending her from what she got into, he wanted to just keep her from doing anything to avoid the hassle. All she really knew about Vegeta was that he would protect her from himself and anything else if it suited his purposes. She wasn't sure how reliable he was, but that didn't bother her very much. It was enough to have what she had from him.

"Vegeta?"

"Hn."

"I want to know everything about you."

She was met with silence. She knew that he was ignoring her, and it bothered her. Furrowing her brows, she elaborated, "I want to know what makes you tick. How you think."

"You would not be able to handle the truth, Woman."

"Like how I couldn't handle the answer to my question today. I know, I get it. I might not like the answers, but I don't care. I'm glad you shared with me what you did, even if it hurt like fucking hell."

"Trust me, it hurt worse than hell."

Bulma was silenced. She never even thought about how he had died on Namek or where he had gone when he died. She found the idea highly unpleasant and tried to push it out of her mind before it took root and refused to let her push it away.

"Well, whatever. The point is, I want to learn everything about you, Vegeta."

"Here's lesson number one," he said and waited until he had her undivided attention before continuing, keeping his expression deadpan. "I hate talking about myself."

Bulma frowned and opened her mouth to yell something at him in response, but stopped when he started chuckling lightly. "Vegeta," she whined, "I'm serious."

"As am I." He rolled them so that he was on top of her and his face was just above hers, their noses touching. The intensity in his eyes was powerful, holding her captive as he continued, "What is there to know, Woman? I am evil. A killer. An animal. I have destroyed hundreds of civilizations, killing millions, billions of sentient creatures. With the flick of a wrist I decimated dozens of planets and ruthlessly murdered countless members of Frieza's army. I am the plague of the universe, what more could you possibly want to know about me?"

Bulma let out the breath she had been holding as he spoke and slowly moved her head from side to side. She already knew that about him, and it didn't really give her any idea of _who_ he was. All she knew about him was what he _used _to _do_. "That's not what I mean, Vegeta. I know what you used to do when you worked for Frieza. But that doesn't tell me anything about _you_."

Vegeta cocked his head as he began his slightly overused spiel, "I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, last prince of the Royal House of Vegeta of Vegeta-sei, most powerful being in all the universe."

Bulma rolled her eyes, much to his chagrin. "Yes, Vegeta (how many times can you use Vegeta in once sentence, anyway?), that's _what_ you are. But _who_ are you?"

"What is the difference?"

She thought about that for a moment. "Well, that's your title, but who is it the title of? What's behind all the fancy words?"

"That, Woman," he said slowly, "would take years to discover."

"How do I know I have that much time?"

"You don't."

Bulma had nothing to say to that. He was just being honest, not giving her any false hope that he would stick around after the androids were defeated. For all she knew he would stick to his original plan and kill Goku before blowing the planet up. Something told her that he wouldn't, but as usual, there was no telling what his motives were and what he would do.

Figuring she was done bothering him for the time being, Vegeta rested his head on her chest and laid down on her, careful not to put too much of his weight on her fragile body. She gasped as she felt his weight and couldn't stop her mind from racing to fearful questions about what he was doing. Why had he put them in this position? He said he wouldn't hurt her, but would he…?

Minutes later Bulma had decided that he had no shady intentions, so she wrapped her arms around him again and rubbed his back gently. She listened to the birds chirping in the trees, the still air occasionally shaken by the cry of a peacock hiding in the trees. She wasn't sure whether Vegeta was awake or not, his breathing was so steady and he had not uttered a word for some time.

"Bulma, Vegeta! Come get your dinner before it gets cold!" a high, cheerful voice rang out through the garden.

The moment broken, Bulma sighed and let go of the saiyan prince, stretching her hands over her head as she said, "Guess we should go eat, huh?"

Vegeta sat up so that he was straddling her legs and crossed his arms over his chest while his tail curled around his waist. "I suppose," he grumbled as he rose to his feet. He walked out of the small forest with Bulma on his heels.

He was pleased to note that Kakarrot had taken his brat and the Namekian back home. Their presence had a way of grating on his nerves, even more than the woman's ridiculous mother and her scatter-brained father. He tolerated them for the services they provided him, but little else.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Vegeta started eating before the table was finished being set. The Briefs were used to his lack of manners, excusing him because of his alien nature. It was rude, in their opinion, to try forcing trivial Earth customs on a man from another planet who was likely showing them respect in his own way. If only they knew the truth. Bulma knew better, but she held her tongue for the sake of avoiding confrontation over something she had no hope of changing.

When Bulma sat down across from Vegeta, she felt something warm and furry wrap around her thigh under the table. She looked across the table at the saiyan questioningly, but he did not so much as acknowledge her, his attention being focused on the food in front of him. She shrugged and started eating.

As soon as Vegeta finished and pushed his plate away, Bulma spoke up, "Hey, 'Geta, do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?"

He looked like he was seriously considering it before he answering shortly, "No."

Bulma frowned. She hadn't realized how much she was hoping he would say yes before he denied her offer. "Why not? You're the one who took me to the movies the other night. I thought maybe you had decided they're not so bad."

Vegeta smirked. "They are a foolish waste of time. I have better things to do."

"Like what?" Bulma raised her eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. It's not like he could train in his condition.

"Like…" Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll watch a stupid movie with you, Woman."

Bulma grinned at him. "Great. Meet me in the recreation room in fifteen minutes."

"Hn."

She watched his receding back as he left the kitchen, excited that he had agreed to waste his time with her. Hopefully, he wouldn't want to watch a movie as disgusting as the one they had seen in the theater.

Fifteen minutes later, Bulma walked into the rec. room and found Vegeta sitting on the couch in front of the TV, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. She had chosen this room because of the superior sound system over that in the living room. She moved over to the couch, her bare feet silent on the fluffy white carpet.

"So, what do you want to watch?" she asked after sitting down next to him, carefully choosing a safe distance that wasn't so far it was insulting and not so close it was awkward.

He shrugged. "How should I know? You choose, Woman."

Bulma mentally slapped herself for asking such a stupid question. As if he would know the names of any movies! She got up off the couch and opened the door of the cabinet the DVDs were kept in. Figuring he would want something with at least some violence, she was quickly able to narrow her options. She figured the dragon slaying in "Sleeping Beauty" wouldn't count as violence. Still, it had to be something tasteful enough for her to be able to watch without feeling nauseous.

Finally, she pulled a DVD out of the cabinet and handed it to Vegeta for approval. "Here, what do you think of this one?"

Vegeta took the case and raised an eyebrow in interest. "V for Vendetta. It sounds like it may be only mildly boring." He handed it back to her and she smiled, knowing that was the closest she was going to get to an admittance that it looked good.

Bulma popped the disc into the DVD player and flipped the TV on. She sat back down on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. Vegeta uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides as he watched the movie with interest. When she didn't hear him laughing during the torture, short as it was, she thought that maybe he had fallen asleep out of boredom. She turned to look at him and saw that he was actually leaning forward slightly, completely enthralled. She smiled and turned back to the movie, feeling giddy because of his reaction.

When it ended, Bulma stood up and stretched as she asked, "So, did you like it?"

"Hn."

She hadn't expected much more than that. She returned the disc to its case and put it away. Checking the clock on the VCR (someone had _finally_ figured out how to set it, if only by trial and error) and saw that it was getting late.

Vegeta stood up and, for the first time, thoroughly took in his surroundings. There was a large table with green felt on the surface in the center of the room, a bookcase filled with board games, and a round table with five chairs around it. There was a balcony that overlooked the city on the far side of the room. In the corner, there was a small home gym that looked essentially new. Indeed, Bulma's parents' fitness kick hadn't lasted long a few years ago.

He walked over to the strange table and was surprised to find six holes with pockets along the edges. Turning to the woman, his expression demanded an explanation. Bulma grinned and told him, "That's a pool table. I should teach you how to play sometime. No one's ever beat me."

"Oh really?" he said, smirking, "Why don't you teach me now?"

Bulma checked the clock again. It was almost 10:00. "Well, ok, if you want." She went to the bookcase of games and picked up a triangular rack with fifteen balls and a plain white ball sitting on top and took it to the table. She grabbed two cues from the wall and handed one to Vegeta, who looked at it curiously.

"So this is how I play," she said as she put the rack on one end of the table. "One of us takes the cue ball," she held up the plain white ball, "and hits it from the opposite end of the table and breaks the rack." She demonstrated, sending the balls rolling around the table. "The object of the game is to get either all the solid colored balls or all the striped balls, excluding the eight ball and the cue ball, in the pockets. I didn't get any balls in the pockets, so it's your turn. You can only hit the cue ball to get the other balls in."

Vegeta, listening intently, nodded and moved around the table to get closer to the cue ball. Imitating how he had seen Bulma holding the cue stick, he regarded the position of all the balls and saw one that looked easy enough to pocket. He hit the cue ball and it went flying off the table and embedded in the wall. Bulma smacked her forehead and laughed. "You don't have to hit it that hard," she said between laughs.

She went over and retrieved the ball and put it back where it had been, telling him, "Since this is your first time I'll let you try again." She winked at him and stepped back to give him room.

He huffed haughtily and tried again, this time only tapping the cue ball. It slowly rolled across the table and bumped into the five ball, moving it a couple inches. It stopped precariously close to the pocket he was trying to get it into. "What the? You have got to be kidding me!" he growled angrily, fixing a death glare on the obstinate ball.

"Don't worry, 'Geta, you'll get the hang of it," Bulma said, mockingly patting him on the back. She decided to go after the same ball and hit it into the pocket. Smiling to herself she told Vegeta, "Since I got the five ball in, I have solids and you have stripes. It's still my turn until I either don't get another solid ball in or the cue ball or eight ball goes in a pocket."

The game progressed and Vegeta's frustration started to lessen as he figured out the force necessary to move the balls and physics of the balls bouncing off each other and the edge of the table. He soon caught up to her in number of balls pocketed, but she pulled ahead to take the win.

"Ha, ha, Vegeta, I can beat you at something!" she said smugly, grinning at the saiyan.

"Shut up, Woman. I could beat you in another game."

"You're on." They started a new game, Vegeta taking the break shot that time.

An hour later they were still playing, Bulma having won the first two games and Vegeta currently on a win streak of three games. They moved pretty quickly, each being able to calculate the exact angles and forces needed to pocket their balls. It was challenging trying to stay a step ahead of their opponents. When Bulma accidentally hit the eight ball into a pocket, ending the game early, she glanced at the clock and frowned.

"It's getting late, Vegeta," she said, holding back a yawn. "I need to go to bed."

"Hn." He set the rack on the table again, silently dismissing her.

She turned to go, figuring he would stay up practicing for a while longer. "I'll see you tomorrow, 'Geta. Maybe we can hang out again since you won't be training. Goodnight." She walked out of the room and down the hall to her room.

Vegeta broke the rack and started a game against himself. He kept playing until well after midnight when his eyes finally refused to stay open without a fight. Putting the balls and cue stick away, he left the room and went to his own room. He changed into his boxers before burying himself in his nest and soon fell asleep, dreaming about the past he wished he could forget as he so often did.

_A/N: I really liked the thing with the telepathic…stuff with the saiyans, so I threw it in there again. Telepathy isn't going to play much of a role in the story, but this particular thing comes up a time or two. So Vegeta's learning what a friend is, but will his expectations for Bulma be a little too much? It might cause trouble in the near future…_

_And if you haven't seen V for Vendetta, you really should. :)_

_Song: "Lonely as You" by Foo Fighters_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Wash away my troubles, wash away my pain  
With the rain in Shambala  
Wash away my sorrow, wash away my shame  
With the rain in Shambala_

It was mid-morning and Bulma was working in her lab. She decided to let Vegeta sleep in when she saw that he hadn't gotten up before dawn, knowing that his body was still busy recuperating from the damage it received in his spar against Goku. The day before she had altered the design of the gravity room in accordance with Vegeta's calculations and she was busy putting in orders for the materials she would need to build it. They would probably be delivered within the next two days.

Bulma went upstairs to the kitchen to get a snack, not having had a very substantial breakfast. She found her mother mixing some batter at the table, flour and cocoa smeared on her yellow apron. Mrs. Brief looked up and smiled at her daughter. "Oh hi there, Bulma dear. I was just mixing up some cupcakes for Mr. Vegeta, you know how much he likes them. And I thought they might make him feel better since he's not supposed to train. He does so love his work!"

"Yeah, Mom, I bet he'd like that," Bulma agreed, not really listening. She put two slices of bread in the toaster and leaned against the counter. "I was wondering what he might like to do today."

"Well, dear, you could take him shopping to get some formal clothes. You know the Capsule Corp annual banquet is just around the corner and I'm sure he'd like to go," Mrs. Brief suggested, pouring the batter into a muffin pan.

Bulma thought about when she had taken Vegeta to the mall and his almost allergic reaction to the smells and sounds of the place. One corner of her mouth turned down. "Maybe. I haven't even asked him if he wants to go yet."

"But Bulma he's such a handsome man, surely you want to show him off?" Mrs. Brief smiled wide and giggled. "Too bad he was so _shy_, he'd have girls hanging all over him."

"Sure he would," Bulma rolled her eyes. He may be attractive, but his personality was not exactly magnetic.

"Oh, honey, I almost forgot. Yamcha called a while ago and would like for you to call him back. What a nice-looking young man. You sure know how to pick them, dear." Mrs. Brief giggled again and put the muffin pan in the oven to bake.

Bulma sighed as she spread jam on her toast. Sometimes she really couldn't understand her mother's obsession with how attractive the men around her were. She sat down at the table to eat her toast and drink a glass of milk before going back to work. There was a small project she wanted to get done that week and she had been neglecting it.

Finished with her snack, she put her plate in the sink and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to call Yamcha. She was walking down the stairs to her lab when he finally picked up the phone.

"Hey, Yam, it's Bulma," she said, somewhat distracted by the blueprints in front of her.

"Hey, B! What's up?"

"Just working on a project in the lab. The usual. Mom said you called earlier?"

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. It's been a while, you know?" The guilt in his voice wasn't quite convincing, but Bulma didn't mind.

"Sure, what time?"

"I'll pick you up at four."

"Ok, see you then." She hung up after their goodbyes and returned her phone to the pocket of her lab coat. She started writing a program for the computer chip for her project, pushing her phone conversation to the back of her mind.

When Vegeta woke up, there was dim light filtering into his room through the venetian blinds. He pushed his blanket off and looked up at the clock. 9:53AM. He groaned slightly as he dragged himself out of his nest, aggravated that he had slept so late. He opened the blinds and saw that it was raining.

He frowned slightly and went into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water brought him out of his half-asleep state and he leaned against the cool shower wall, letting the water sooth his aching muscles. The cuts and burns on his body had finished healing and his ribs were feeling much better. He figured it would be best not to train again until his arm and his ribs were fully healed.

After his shower he dressed himself in jeans and a black polo shirt. His stomach growled and he went to get some breakfast. Downstairs he sniffed the air, the scent of chocolate cupcakes wafting down the hall from the kitchen. He smirked and went to the kitchen where Mrs. Brief was just finishing icing the cupcakes she had made for him.

"There you are, Mr. Vegeta," she said happily. "I hope you slept well, after all those injuries you had! My goodness I don't know how you can stand it. I knew you wouldn't be training today so I made you these cupcakes." She held the platter of pastries out to him, her happy face beaming at him.

"Hn." He took the platter and started stuffing the cupcakes in his mouth, barely breathing between chewing and swallowing. Typically he did not care for sweets, but Mrs. Brief's chocolate cupcakes were a weakness of his.

Mrs. Brief poured him a tall glass of milk and set it on the table in front of him, content to watch him eat and enjoy her hard work. When he had finished he looked at her and said, "I need more food, Woman." His tone was not particularly unkind, just telling her a fact. Even though she could annoy him to no end, he respected her enough, if only for her cooking, to be civil to her.

"Of course, sweetie. Would you like some blueberry pancakes?" Before he answered she was pulling a mixing bowl out of the cupboard and gathering ingredients. She was, by all accounts, a cooking machine.

Vegeta sat at the kitchen table as he waited, reading the newspaper Dr. Brief had left behind after finishing his breakfast hours ago. As he expected there was no interesting news. Some political scandal, a shooting at some university, embezzlement in some large company. He was nearly yawning from his boredom by the time Mrs. Brief placed his first plate of pancakes in front of him.

The saiyan ate the mountain of pancakes prepared for him and got up from the table, intent on finding the blue-haired woman. If he couldn't train maybe he could get her to do something with him for entertainment. He sensed out her ki and went to the lab.

He opened the door and jumped over the rail, landing softly behind her. He watched her for a while before asking, "What are you doing, Woman?"

Bulma nearly fell out of her chair. She knew when he had come in, but when he hadn't said anything she quickly forgot that he was in the lab with her. Without turning around, she answered, "I'm finishing the wiring on this. Then I'll finally be done with this stupid project." The curious saiyan paid close attention to the minute movements she made, vaguely impressed with her precision.

As she finished, she threw her hands up in the air and laughed. "There, that's been in the works for months and I finally got around to finishing it!"

He moved around her and leaned against her desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "I cannot train today, Woman. So what do you propose I do?"

Bulma glanced at the cast on his arm and raised her eyebrows as she thought. "Well, first things first, I should check to see how your arm is healing. I might be able to take the cast off today." She stood up and took her lab coat off and hung it on the back of her chair. "Let's go to the infirmary and I can take an x-ray to see how it's doing." Gesturing with her hand for him to follow, she went upstairs and led him to the infirmary wing.

She took an x-ray of his forearm and found that his ulna was almost completely healed. In a few hours she would be able to take the cast off. An additional x-ray showed that his ribs were about finished repairing themselves, so he would be able to resume training the next day. While they were in the infirmary Bulma removed the stitches from his calf, the only sign that there had been a bone-deep gash the day before was a pale scar no wider than a hair.

She pulled up his shirt to see his left side. She poked and prodded a little, which did not cause any discomfort at all. There were no longer signs of internal bleeding, so she figured his ruptured spleen must have completely healed overnight. She ran her hand lightly over his tan skin, tracing the rock hard muscles of his abdomen. Saiyan anatomy was practically indestructible.

"Looks like you're almost as good as new. This evening I'll check your arm again, and I should be able to take the cast off," she told him.

"Hn." He pulled his shirt back down and slid off the examination table. "Well, doctor," he said snidely, "what am I to do today if I cannot train?"

Bulma smiled slightly. "Well, it's yucky out today, so I personally don't want to go out this afternoon. Why don't we stay here and find something to do?"

He paced back and forth a couple times, thinking about what he could do at the compound that didn't involve training, eating, or sleeping. That was essentially all he did while he was at Capsule Corp. Behind him his tail curled and twitched as he thought. Bulma put her hand over her mouth to hide her giggling. Instead of having an imaginary question mark over his head as he thought, he had his tail giving him away.

He stopped. "Play pool with me," he ordered rather than asked.

Bulma grinned. "Only if you don't whine when I beat you."

"As if you have any hope of winning against the Prince of all Saiyans." He smirked.

Upstairs in the recreation room, the two competitive players were grumbling in frustration, mumbling accusations of cheating, and laughing in triumph whenever they got a ball in a pocket or the other failed to do so. All around, the sportsmanship was lacking and neither was willing to admit defeat.

"You didn't win, you big jerk! You must have… you probably used your ki or something! There's no way you could have done that!"

"Please, Woman, as if I would have to resort to such means to beat you."

Bulma threw her cue stick down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. She was pouting and on the verge of throwing an all-out temper tantrum, having lost yet another game to the smug saiyan prince. That was six in a row! No one wins that often against her! Heck, up until she taught him how to play no one _ever_ won against her.

"Admit it," he said, examining his fingernails, "I am superior to you in every way." He shot a pointed glance in her direction and his smirk turned into a grin when he saw her color rising with anger before she turned her back on him.

"You are not. You're a… you're a cheating. Bad. Man. I don't want to play this anymore."

"Oh really? You don't take loss very well, Woman."

"As if you do."

He shrugged. He knew that he was a – what did she call it? – sore loser. Defeat was something he had rarely encountered in his life and it still stung him whenever he had to admit to it that someone had one-upped him, regardless of what it was. A fight, a game of pool, getting the last dumpling at dinner. It didn't matter.

Bulma was still facing away from him brooding over her loss. In a single fluid movement Vegeta was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body flush against his, one hand trailing up her body to her throat. He heard her surprised gasp and smirked. "It is never wise to turn your back on your opponent," he whispered in her ear with a low growl.

"This isn't a fight, 'Geta," she hissed, pulling away from him. He followed her as she walked around the table like a cat stalking its prey. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you following me?"

"No reason."

Bulma's shoulders drooped and she turned on her heel to confront him. She bumped into his chest and stumbled back. Vegeta raised his eyebrow at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm growing bored, Woman." He laid his cue stick on the pool table next to hers and was surveying the rest of the room. His tail was twitching from side to side behind him as his eyes rested on the bookcase full of board games, curious about what they were. Sorry? Monopoly? Checkers? It was all nonsense. He pulled the box labeled "Chess" off the self. "What is this?" he asked, looking at the picture of a black and white board with strange objects on it.

Bulma walked over to him and took the box from him and set it on the table near the balcony. "This is a game of strategy," she told him, "You might actually enjoy it." She laid the checkered board on the table and started setting out the pieces. As soon as she put a piece in its place Vegeta would pick it up and examine it closely, rolling it around in his hand and biting it. Bulma laughed and set them back in place on the board.

"The object of the game is to get your opponent in a checkmate, which means they can't move or defend their king," she explained as she held up the white king. "All the different pieces can make different moves." She spent the next ten minutes explaining how to use each piece in detail while demonstrating on the board.

Vegeta listened carefully, his interest in the game growing by the minute. Strategy was what he excelled at, always at least three steps ahead of his opponent with two or more alternative plans of action hidden up his sleeve. Finally, Bulma finished going over the rules of the game and she turned the board to give him the white set and thus the first move.

"Your move first, 'Geta." She watched as he carefully chose which pawn to move out first and countered with a pawn of her own. Slowly, their pieces moved out to the center of the board, Bulma remaining cautious with her higher value pieces. Vegeta was a little more reckless, but she had a difficult time predicting his moves to exploit his vulnerabilities.

Whenever he would stop to consider his next move, his tail would curl and twitch as he lost himself in thought. When he was feeling confident in his move, it would happily flick from side to side. Each time the woman captured one of his pieces or he noticed the danger one of his pieces was in, it would loosely curl around his waist for a few seconds. Bulma picked up on its movements and started to get an inkling of what the saiyan was feeling. She wondered if he would be any good at poker. He had a great poker _face_, but would his tail betray him?

"Stalemate," Bulma grumbled when they ended up with only the kings on the board.

"What's that?" He looked up from the game and furrowed his brows.

Bulma returned the kings to their original squares and started placing the rest of the pieces in their places for the start of a new game. "It's basically a draw. Neither of us could corner the other's king because all we had were, well, kings. They're basically useless."

He snorted in disdain. "Kings usually are."

She looked up at him and saw that his arms were crossed with one side of his mouth downturned as he chewed the inside of his cheek. His eyes were focused on something to the side and his tail had wrapped back around his waist. She knew he was effectively closed off after making that comment, so she decided not to ask what he meant by it.

"How about I play white this game?" she asked, changing subjects.

He shrugged. "Either way suits me. I am going to win this time. No draw."

Bulma smiled to herself at the return of his confident smugness. She made no reply as she finished setting up the pieces on the board.

"Checkmate." It was five minutes into the game.

"What?" she cried, "That is so not fair! Vegeta!" Bulma slammed her hands down on the table and huffed loudly. "Can't I beat you in anything?" she mumbled, mostly to herself.

Vegeta smirked, baring his sharp canine to her. "Maybe in a game of chance."

That was not the answer she wanted to hear. She frowned in determination as she set up the pieces again, sliding the board around to give him the white set. "You got lucky that time."

The saiyan chuckled as he moved one of his pawns out, amused by her hopeless desire to trump him in a game of tactics. The rules were new to him, but the idea behind it was not. He had been playing games of strategy his whole life, just with real lives on the line. It was what he was born and bred for. The leader of a warrior race.

Their third game went slower than the others had, Bulma taking even longer to make her moves now that she was blatantly aware of her tactical disadvantage. Sensing her determination and crafty plots, Vegeta was more on guard and set up elaborate defenses for his higher value pieces but making sure to give them easy escapes. She found herself unable to break through his marble army and growled in frustration.

"Damnit, Vegeta, you've never played this before today! I shouldn't be having so much trouble figuring out your next move," she nearly shouted as he captured her remaining bishop.

"Did you think winning a battle with me would be a walk in the park, Woman?"

She glared at her king that had just been checked, moving her knight to protect it from the attacking rook. "This isn't a battle." More like a slaughter, she clarified mentally.

"It is a mock battle, even if it is just marble figures fighting on an open battlefield with set rules that cannot be broken without conceding by default." He moved his queen forward two squares. "Checkmate."

Seeing that there was no way to help her king, she put her elbow on the table and dropped her head into her hand, shaking it slowly. "Maybe this wasn't the best game to play against you. I need one where diplomacy is required instead of battle smarts."

Vegeta scoffed. "You think that would help you? I am a prince, Woman. I attended dozens of diplomatic meetings as a boy and sat in on a hundred more as Frieza's soldier, even playing ambassador a few times in his absence. I prefer fighting, but I can _talk_ if I need to." He spat the last part as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Bulma raised her head so that her chin was resting on her hand. She studied his face for a moment before saying, "I guess I never thought about you having to do that before."

He laid his hand on the table and rapped his fingers against its polished surface. The corners of his mouth twitched down but returned to a hard line, his expression remaining neutral. His tail wrapped around his waist, the tip twitched agitatedly. "No, you wouldn't. The monkey prince could never be trusted with a task that requires _brains_ instead of brawn," he sneered.

"I never said that, Vegeta," she shot back, hurt that he would assume she thought that about him.

"It doesn't matter if you did, enough others have said it for you." He growled low in his throat. "Soldiers not fit to lick my boot would mock me from under Frieza's wings. They thought I was a fool." He broke into a feral grin before adding, "But they're all dead now and I'm not."

"You have to admit, though," she said thoughtfully, "You're good at hiding your genius behind your hot-headed tough guy façade. Anyone could mistake you for just a brute."

Vegeta snickered, his tail flicking back and forth in amusement. "Yes, I suppose I am. It was always fun to see the disbelief on the faces of the fools who would meet their end at my hands because of their disregard for my cunning and patience for the right time to strike."

Bulma cringed at the unabashed way he talked about killing people. She thought insulting him was not justification for murder, but he would beg to differ. 'Don't judge him,' Bulma told herself, 'He comes from another world, not only in the sense of being born on another planet. He grew up in a crazy, unstable and dangerous environment where it was often kill or be killed.' She smiled weakly and nodded her head, wishing for some kind of diversion from the open confession of his murderous past.

The saiyan prince still looked quite pleased with himself as he reminisced about striking terror into the hearts of his enemies as he took his cruel revenge on them. He smirked and flicked his tongue over his canine.

Bulma softly cleared her throat to wake him from his reverie. Goosebumps formed on her arms as she was forced to remember the nature of the man sitting before her. When she was with him it was so easy to forget his cruelty. He treated her civilly, for the most part, and had promised to never raise a hand against her. She had seen a different side of him, broken and vulnerable, almost childlike in his need for someone to comfort him and chase away his inner demons. Yet he was still Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, the man who single-handedly committed genocide. The worst part was that he seemed to take pride in his crimes.

When he heard the quiet sound he looked across the table at the blue-haired woman who was watching him with some discomfort he could not explain. "So I take it you do not want to play another game against me?" he asked, nodding toward the chess board.

She gave him a lopsided smile, feeling silly for getting so upset about losing a game. "Nah, let's try something a little less competitive, ok?"

He snorted. "If you wish."

Bulma packed the chess pieces and board back in the box and returned it to its place on the shelf. She was trying to think of something they could do together that wouldn't end up with her losing to him and would keep him happy with some kind of activity to counteract against the lack of competition.

"I have an idea! Come with me," she grinned like the Cheshire cat and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his chair.

"Where are you going, Woman?" he snarled as she practically dragged him out of the room, her heels digging into the carpet to so much as make him budge when he resisted her efforts.

"Just trust me," she said, moving behind him to push him forward in the direction she wanted to go. She almost fell on her face when he relented and walked without her help. "Finally," she mumbled to herself after she had regained her balance. She motioned for him to follow and ran out of the rec. room and down the hall to his room.

He raised his eyebrows in astonishment when she disappeared into his room before he could stop her. He shrugged half-heartedly and went in after her, only to find the blue-haired woman opening the drawers of his dresser and hastily rifling through his clothes.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, highly irritated that she was completely throwing his need for militaristic organization to the wind.

She grinned at him and threw a pair of old training shorts at him. "We're going to play dress up," she answered, trying to hold back her laughter when she saw his incredulous expression.

"Woman…" his tone gave her all the warning she needed.

"Ok, we're not. But you should change into old clothes before we do this."

"Do what?"

"You'll see." She placed a gray t-shirt with cut off sleeves in his hands as she skipped out of his room and down the hall to her bedroom to get changed.

"That woman is insane," he informed himself as he changed into the clothes she gave him. When he had carefully folded his jeans and returned them to their drawer and hung his polo shirt in his closet, having figured they were barely worn, he went out into the hall to wait for the crazy woman.

Not a minute later she practically flew out of her room wearing an oversized light blue t-shirt and cut off jean shorts. "Come on, Vegeta!" she sang, grabbing his hand and running downstairs, two steps at a time. In his surprise he could hardly keep up with her without tripping.

They were nearly past the kitchen when Vegeta dug his heels into the ground and refused to go any farther despite her pleading. "I am going to eat before we do anything," he told her firmly, pushing the door open. Bulma groaned, knowing it would take him forever to eat lunch. Then her stomach growled, making it two to one Vegeta's favor for eating.

"Fine," she muttered, going into the kitchen after the prince. Mrs. Brief had apparently prepared a meal fit for a saiyan before going out to do who-knows-what as there was a massive stack of sandwiches of all kinds and a pitcher of iced tea sitting out. Vegeta had already started eating by the time she scooted her chair in to the table.

Bulma poured them both glasses of tea before snatching one of the sandwiches and munching on it slowly while Vegeta inhaled the rest. When he had swallowed the last of the sandwiches and downed the rest of his tea, Bulma led him to the front door.

Vegeta furrowed his brows. "I thought you did not want to go out today due to the weather."

"I changed my mind," she said, opening the door for him, "Now get out there."

Grudgingly he complied, stepping out into the steady drizzle. The drops of rain were cold against his skin, but the summer air warmed him. His bare feet left wet footprints as he carefully stepped on the circles of concrete that led from the front door to the driveway.

Behind him, Bulma said, "There's only one rule: No using your saiyan powers." With that, she slapped her hands on his back and yelled, "You're it!" before dashing off into the wet grass, bare feet sinking into the wet soil.

"What?" he hissed through clenched teeth. He whipped his head around to see her as she was sticking her tongue out at him and giving him the bring-it-on gesture with her hands. "You want me to chase you?" he asked, trying to figure out was going on. She nodded at him, smirking smugly. That was all the invitation he needed.

"Eep!" When Vegeta had taken all of two steps Bulma realized she was standing in place and turned to run away from him. She kept shooting glances over her shoulder as she zig-zagged through the slick grass, seeing him gaining on her each time. When he was almost on her, she made a move to turn right and slipped in the grass, her feet moving forward without her body. She screamed as she fell to the ground.

Vegeta had to jump over her to avoid crashing into her and he sailed through the air, landing on his hands and feet, his tail swinging behind him for balance. He saw Bulma rising to her feet a couple yards away and he did a handspring to get back to his feet quickly, twisting in the air so he landed facing in her direction.

"Can't catch me!" she taunted as she sprinted around the compound. Vegeta smirked and gave her a three second head start before he took off around the other side of the compound, knowing that she would check behind herself and get a false sense of security when she didn't see him in hot pursuit.

Both reached the back yard at about the same time, but she didn't notice as she was busy looking behind her. When she turned back around she was about to have a head-on collision with a brick wall (read: Prince Vegeta). A squeak of surprise barely had time to leave her throat before she dug her heels into the mud, arms flailing as she lost her balance.

Still running, he reached out his arms and caught her before she went down. He held her against him as he slowed down and, smirking, told her, "You're it." He plopped her down on the ground and ran past her. He could hear her indignant shouts about being dropped until he reached the front yard again.

Bulma followed shortly after him and headed straight for him as he purposely ran in a straight line at a humanly reasonable pace. When he cut to the left just before she tackled him, his feet slipped in front of him and he turned on his side, giving a perfect imitation of a baseball player sliding into base. His momentum carried him through the mud for a few feet. Seeing the woman coming right at him, he twisted so he was on his stomach and raised himself to his hands and feet and ran like an animal out of her grasp.

Both found themselves laughing and taunting each other as they played in the rain, slipping, sliding, and falling as they chased each other around in a children's game. It only took a few minutes for them to get covered in mud and wet grass, their soaked clothes clinging to their bodies.

Almost half an hour passed before Bulma called a time out, her lungs desperate for the oxygen they had been deprived of for too long as she ran around with the saiyan. "Vegeta," she panted, "I need to take a break. This is light exercise to you but I'm going to die!" She fell to the ground dramatically, feigning death.

"You are just out of shape, Woman," he said as he sat down next to her. "You should exercise more and then maybe you could keep up with me." As an afterthought he added, "Well, you couldn't, but for a human you might fare better."

"Ha, ha, Mr. Alien-Freak-Who-Never-Tires. I'll have you know that for a _human_ I'm in pretty damn good shape!" she snapped. Her breathing had slowed and her heart rate was almost down to normal. A sudden idea struck her. "But if you think I could do better, why don't you help me? Go on morning jogs with me and force me to push myself."

"You expect me to waste my time on such a hopeless venture?" He scoffed. "I have my own training to do, Woman."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "You're already a super saiyan, what's one half hour out of your morning going to hurt?" She looked at him with the puppy dog eyes that had yet to fail in getting her what she wanted.

Vegeta was unaffected, but he was considering her suggestion. It wasn't as if it would _hurt_ him to jog regularly. It wasn't intense training, but he recognized the importance of building his body's endurance without the use of ki. One of the most valuable lessons he learned while living as Frieza's soldier was that a good warrior should never come to rely solely on ki.

"On one condition," he told her, "You will not expect me to slow down or stop when your lazy ass reaches the limit of endurance." He told himself adamantly that he was not agreeing to go with her so he could spend more time with her on a daily basis. It was purely for the sake of his training.

She agreed. "That's fair. I wouldn't want to hold you back."

The rain had just about stopped and the sun was peeking through the gray clouds above. Bulma shivered when a cool breeze chilled the drops of water beaded on her exposed skin. Vegeta observed her body's subtle trembling. He laid down next to her and rested his head on her chest, draping his arm over her body and wrapping his tail around her waist.

Bulma absentmindedly started stroking his hair that was tickling her cheek. The heat from his body flooded through her and her shivering ceased. Her body sought more warmth as her arms encircled his chest and her legs entwined with his.

Vegeta closed his eyes and pulled her closer. He listened to her steady heartbeat and relaxed in her embrace, a sense of calm washing over him. The feeling of security he had begun to associate with the blue-haired woman seemed to grow stronger every time he was with her. She was so consistent, in stark contrast with the tides of change he was so used to. For months she had put up with him, providing him with food, shelter, and training equipment. And now, she seemed to actually enjoy his company enough to seek it. She trusted him. She wanted him around. She was his friend, his firm ground to stand on.

"I think I might have to kill you before you make me go soft," Vegeta mumbled.

A hearty laugh escaped from Bulma's chest and was joined by Vegeta's low chuckle. "You are such a jerk, Vegeta," she finally said, no evidence of anger in her voice.

"Is that why you like me?" he asked, the word 'like' seeming to take some effort to pronounce.

"That's partly it. But I think I like you because _you_ like _me._"

Vegeta scoffed at her bold assertion. "I wouldn't go that far. I merely tolerate your presence and occasionally humor you."

"Whatever, that's as close to liking someone as you can get, so I still say you like me."

"If you say so."

The last wisps of cloud had blown away and the mid-afternoon sun was shining down on the odd pair, its golden rays heating the ground. The fresh rain evaporated from the earth, floating away in puffs of steam that made the still air heavy with humidity. In the trees birds started chirping, spreading the news that the rain was gone and the sun was out. Bulma shut her eyes and smiled, delighting in the sounds and smells of summer bursting around her in a wave of euphoric sensations.

He moved his head so it was resting on her shoulder and he inhaled her sweet scent. He could practically smell the happiness that was radiating off her skin. It made him smile in comfort as he nuzzled into her neck, burying himself in her soothing aroma.

Vegeta raised himself up on his elbow and cocked his head as he studied her face. It was so free of worry, it showed no signs of ever knowing hardship. Her blue eyes would drown him if he looked at them for too long, but he felt himself falling into them anyway. He felt a strange sensation when he looked into them, a feeling of being accepted despite his blackened soul. He thought that perhaps she could see beyond all that with a clarity he couldn't fathom. She could see something in him that he himself could not. And he found himself wondering what it was.

"What is it, Vegeta?" she asked after his intense scrutiny started to feel awkward, like he was peering into her soul and discovering her deepest secrets.

Her face snapped back into focus when he heard her voice speaking to him, saving him from the depths of the purest blue. "What?" Her words had blurred together, his mind too busy trying to escape her gaze to listen.

"Is something wrong?"

"No." He dragged his hand through her damp, tangled locks of sky blue hair, ignoring the mud caked in it. "You are filthy, Woman."

"So are you. So it doesn't really matter."

Vegeta smirked and laid back down with his head on her shoulder. His close proximity didn't bother her anymore. Apparently, saiyans didn't have the same physical boundaries humans did, so he had no idea he was breaking a cultural norm of invading personal space.

'He reminds me of a cat or something the way he cuddles. I doubt he realizes it would be taken as a sign of affection to humans,' Bulma thought as she stroked his thick mane. That was partially true, to her credit. Saiyans were a naturally gregarious race, forming close bonds with their packs, which were small groups of saiyans. Members of a pack would trust one another enough to "cuddle," which was not viewed as affectionate, per se, but as a means of connecting with one another. They would keep each other warm and could better protect each other when they were close together in case an enemy would attack. They would mark each other with their scents when they touched, providing a warning to others to leave a pack member alone if they were for some reason separated. Therefore, it might be said that saiyan cuddling was more utilitarian than affectionate for its own sake.

But Bulma did not know that and Vegeta was hardly aware of it himself. Instinctually he had started to treat her as a pack mate when he accepted her as a friend, if not before. As royalty he had been forbidden from forming close ties with other saiyans, being raised in solitude as all kings were so that they would not favor one tribe over another or learn to depend upon others for protection or a sense of belongingness. Still, his instincts were coming into play now that he was in an environment where he did not feel threatened by every living creature around him.

Vegeta's tail uncoiled from her waist now that she was comfortably warm. It flopped down behind him and the tip curled and lightly beat the ground. His eyes drifted shut and his breathing slowed as he dozed off. For some reason he was able to relax so deeply when he was with the woman that he would fall asleep when he wasn't even tired.

Bulma traced her nails up and down his spine as she stared up at the blue sky. She felt a vibration against her chest before she heard the low, gentle rumbling of the saiyan's purr. Remembering how he reacted whenever she somehow made him purr, she stopped scratching his back, but the purring continued. She figured he was just happy so she continued running her fingers along his spine, laughing silently when the rumbling in his chest would tickle against her skin. She couldn't help but feel like she was trapped in a lion's den and wasn't even scared.

_A/N: Is it just me, or is Bulma forgetting about something she has to do today? Hm… _

_I'm half tempted to hurry up and finish posting the whole story. That's only another 51 chapters, heh. I love the reviews I'm getting, so I'd like to thank all my readers who bother with them. If you haven't left a review, I encourage you to do so. _

_Anyway, I'm going back to college next week, so daily updates might not be as consistent since I'm going to be super busy with the research project I'm way, way, way behind on. Along with the hundred books I have to read for my philosophy class (Ok, I admit only 10 are required reading, but there's another two and half pages of the syllabus listing the "recommended" reading). I digress. I've thought about spreading out updates just to make the story last a little longer. One per day means it'll take two months to finish, but wouldn't you rather have the joy last longer, even if it meant not as frequent updates? Maybe I'll update with every ten reviews I get. Seems fair to me. I do all this work, the least you can do is tell me if you like it. ;)_

_(I doubt I could hold out that long if I wanted to; I'm as excited to post the next chapter as you are to read it. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't review.)_

_Song: "Shambala" by Three Dog Night_


	13. Chapter 13

Warning: Lemony zest.

Chapter 13

_It's all because of you__  
__I wish you never told me__  
__I wake up screaming now__  
__So real these voices in my head_

"Bulma? What the hell is this?" an angry voice screamed.

The blue-haired woman's eyes snapped open and she turned her head in the direction she had heard her name called from. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw who was standing a few yards away, face contorted in disbelief and betrayal.

"Yamcha?" Her hand moved up to rub her eyes and then combed through her hair. She was startled at first when she felt the tangled, muddy strands. "Oh shit! Yamcha!" Bulma tried to sit up but a heavy weight held her on the ground.

"Be quiet woman," a deep voice, slurred with sleep, murmured against her neck. She heard a deep inhalation and then felt a long, slow exhalation of warm air.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Bulma started to panic, unable to find words. Her mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out. Finally, she managed to croak out, "It's not what it looks like." Her groggy voice cracked as the last traces of sleep lifted. When had she dozed off? She couldn't remember.

Yamcha sneered. "You mean to tell me you're _not_ snuggling with _Vegeta_?" His voice rose to a fevered pitch when he said the saiyan's name, like he wouldn't have minded finding her with anyone else, anyone at all as long as it wasn't Vegeta.

"No!" Bulma tried to push the sleeping saiyan off, but he was dead weight. She tried to calm herself before she said in a loud voice, "Vegeta, get off me. I need to get up."

She heard some tired grumbling as he pulled her closer and refused to let go. Had the situation not been so misconstrued in her boyfriend's eyes, she might have found his actions cute or flattering or something, but at the moment she wanted none of it.

Yamcha had had enough. "Get your dirty hands off of her you disgusting monkey!" He stalked towards them, hands clenched into fists, prepared for war. "What the hell did you do to her anyway?" he demanded as an afterthought. His mind would not accept the possibility that Bulma had participated willingly in getting into such an intimate position with the saiyan.

He stopped when he saw Vegeta's arm raise, palm directed toward him, and a ball of energy started gathering. Barely conscious the saiyan had decided the angry human male was a threat to him and his pack member, and he was prepared to defend them. Even if he couldn't be bothered to open his eyes and see what was going on. His tail had wrapped around Bulma's waist again and he was growling his warning.

"Vegeta, calm down. Don't you dare kill my boyfriend!" Bulma shouted, her attempts to stay calm abandoned. When the ki ball continued growing, she screamed, "Wake up, for Kami's sake!"

Vegeta cringed at the volume her voice had risen to and opened his eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. He yawned and glanced around him, the last thing his gaze resting on being the scar-faced warrior. The gears in his head finally started turning and he realized he was about to blast the fool into another dimension, which would undoubtedly upset the woman. The ball of light faded out and his arm dropped. He rose to his knees and shifted his weight to his hands as he arched his back and stretched, tail curled in the air above him.

Freed of his grasp, Bulma slid away from him and got to her feet. She wanted to laugh when she saw the stretching saiyan. 'I slept with a lion, for sure. He's acting just like one!' she thought. She faced Yamcha and asked, "What time is it?"

"It's four. I came to pick you up for our date, but I guess you forgot about it," he said, his voice constricting with pain as he felt a familiar ache in his heart. It wasn't the first time she had forgotten about a date with him, but it was the first time it had been because of another man.

"Too fucking bad," Vegeta snarled, "She obviously doesn't want to see you, so leave." He rose to his feet and moved closer to Bulma, who was standing in the middle, his tail coiling around her thigh.

"No, Vegeta, I'm not letting you chase him out again," Bulma told him firmly. She turned an apologetic look to Yamcha. "I'll go inside and get ready, give me an hour. You can hang out here while you wait."

Yamcha nodded, his hurt temporarily forgotten as the prospect of having his girlfriend all to himself that night started to seem like a reality.

Bulma tried to take a step toward the house but found her leg couldn't move. She sighed. "Let me go."

Vegeta growled but his tail unwound from her leg and hung limp behind him as he watched her link arms with the weakling and take him inside the compound. His eyes dropped to the ground as he clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. A strange feeling swelled in his chest as the front door closed behind them, leaving him standing alone in the yard. He couldn't identify it at first, but then it came to him. Jealousy.

He ground his teeth as he stormed into the compound after them, his tail flicking violently behind him. "Woman!" he roared, starting up the stairs. No answer. "Woman!" He stalked down the hall and threw her bedroom door open.

"Vegeta!" she shrieked in bewildered anger. She was standing in Yamcha's arms without her shirt, and she was not happy about the saiyan's interruption. "Get out!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the weakling demanded furiously.

The prince ignored the weaker warrior as he addressed the woman. "What am I supposed to fucking do if you leave with that fool?"

"I am not dealing with this right now. Shut up and get out of my room," she told him coldly. It was worse than a physical blow.

His flicking tail wrapped tightly around his waist as he cocked his head at Bulma. His respiration accelerated for a moment before he regained control. "But…you're supposed to be…"

Bulma pushed Yamcha away and planted her hands on her hips, forgetting about modesty for the time being. "What? I'm supposed to be what? Your fucking toy? Your _babysitter_? I have a life, you know! You can't expect me to stop everything because you're bored. Go watch a movie or read a book or something, I don't care!"

Yamcha's eyes widened and he held his hands up, trying to calm his girlfriend down. He hated the saiyan, but he knew how powerful he was, and if he decided to punish Bulma for her insolence there would be nothing he could do to stop him. "Bulma, you might want to calm down—"

"Shut up, Yamcha! I've had it with him thinking he can control me when you're around."

Vegeta's tail had fallen from his waist and was now curled around his leg as his shoulders slumped and he looked pleadingly at Bulma. "But you said you were…" He couldn't finish what he was trying to say. He felt so foolish. He was ashamed of himself for letting himself get attached to her so easily. He knew it was a bad idea, and now he had his proof, but it was too late. He hated her in that moment. He hoped to never see her and her idiot mate again. But he wasn't mad at her. His anger was directed only at himself. It was something he had rarely felt, but he knew it well. It made him wish he could crawl into a hole and die, it took his will to live.

Bulma swallowed and rubbed her forehead. She had not missed his strange body language. "Vegeta, I'm sorry. It's just, I want to go on a date with Yamcha tonight. You're going to have to fend for yourself."

He nodded slowly, not meeting her eyes. Those horrible eyes that saw through everything. He straightened his back and wrapped his tail around his waist again. He scowled at the lovers and without a word left the room. A few seconds later his bedroom door slammed shut, shaking the walls.

"Ok. What just happened?"

Bulma ignored the question and dragged her feet to the bathroom, guilt pressing down on her shoulders. "I'm going to shower. I'll be ready in a while," came her expressionless voice as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Yamcha was confused, but he decided not to think about it too much. He thought it would be a better idea to go downstairs and watch some TV while he waited on Bulma. He left her room and walked down the hall, quickening his pace when he went past Vegeta's door. He tried to block out the sound of something ripping, not even wanting to know what was going on inside.

Bulma was attempting to relax as the warm water beat against her back. She washed her long hair with her favorite strawberry-scented shampoo and washed the grass and mud off her milky white skin. Whereas she would normally spend some extra time in the shower since that was where she got her best ideas, she was eager to get out and keep her mind busy so she wouldn't think about her houseguest.

In his room, Vegeta pounced on the bed, wanting to take his self-loathing out on it. He ripped the pillowy top layer off the mattress and started shredding the rest of it. He clawed and tore at the fluffy material with his fingers and teeth, taking out chunks of the spongy memory foam. He growled and snarled and continued tearing at it until his frustration had worn out. When he was done he curled up in the remains of the mattress and brooded over his foolishness, a new bout of anger soon rising in his chest. A pack mate would not abandon him like this. They would not seek attention from someone from another tribe. What he didn't want to think about was how she was actually doing just that by spending time with _him_.

He, himself, was the outsider. The loner.

'I will not feel guilty,' she told herself. 'He needs to learn that he does not control me and I am not his servant, there at his every beck and call. And it's just one night for Kami's sake!' Bulma sighed as she finished curling her hair and stared at herself in the mirror. "You are not doing anything wrong." Not completely believing herself, she left her bathroom and walked into her closet to pick out an outfit.

A few minutes later she walked out wearing a black dress with a low v-neck that fell halfway down her thighs. She was carrying a matching black clutch purse and wore patent black pumps. She sat at her vanity to do her make-up. She picked bright red lipstick and frowned at her reflection. "You look like a cheap whore. I guess Yamcha will like it." She tried to smile but couldn't.

Having finished beautifying herself, Bulma went downstairs and found Yamcha in the living room watching cartoons. She rolled her eyes. He could be _so_ immature it was sickening. "You ready, Yam?"

Yamcha's eyes darted to where she was standing and his eyes roamed over her body, lingering at the good portion of cleavage her dress revealed. "You look great, B!" he said as he stood up and pulled her into a deep kiss. "Let's go."

Bulma smiled at him and grabbed his hand as they left the compound. She kept her back rigid as the door shut behind her and got into Yamcha's red convertible. She didn't even spare a glance back. If she had she would have seen the resident prince standing on his balcony, watching her go with jealousy burning in his eyes as it consumed his heart that had just learned how to beat again.

'You are a fool,' his mind goaded him, 'You allowed yourself to believe she could be trusted. You started to think that she was your – what was it? – friend? It's disgusting, really. The fucking Prince of all Saiyans, dependent on some wench from a backwater planet. You should have died rather than humiliate the saiyan race this way.'

He shook his head, trying to shut the scathing voice out. It wouldn't relent. 'You are pathetic. Look, watch her go! You're fucking jealous! Jealous of some fool human who couldn't raise a finger against you. Jealous over a foolish woman who isn't fit to lick your boot.'

"Shut up," he mumbled aloud. "Just shut up, I don't care."

'What would your father say? He would laugh in your face, you fool. He would be justified in taking the crown away from you for your folly. The saiyan prince needs no one, you were taught that from the day you were born! You need no one, especially not some powerless, idiot little bitch from this useless mudball.'

"Shut up! Get out of my head!" he yelled, clutching his head in his hands.

The voice in his mind changed, transforming into a scratchy feminine voice. 'Look at the little monkey! Always so full of pride. So powerful, the one who would defeat the evil tyrant!' The voice broke into a hideous cackle. 'And now look at the monkey prince! He's all upset because a cheap whore from a worthless planet chose a weakling over him! And he won't even do anything about it. What a chump. Guess she's got him tamed! He's gone soft!'

Vegeta fell to his knees and banged his head against the cement railing of the balcony, cracking it. "That's not true! I am not weak! No one controls me, I will not be tamed, I will not be anyone's slave again. I will not depend on anyone _ever_." His tail lashed around behind him as he banged his head against the railing again. The voice broke out into maniacal laughter, echoing through every corner of his mind. Another blow to his head and he lost consciousness, a trail of blood dripping down his temple.

By the time Yamcha pulled up in front of the premier restaurant of West City, Bulma had all but forgotten her fight with the saiyan prince. She had been reminded of what she loved so much about her teenage sweetheart: He could make her laugh and let go of all her cares and troubles in an instant. Yamcha opened the door for her and she strolled up to the host and dropped her name, instantly getting them the best seat in the house.

When they were seated, Yamcha ordered their finest wine and they started looking over the menu. "So how has your training been going?" Bulma asked once she had decided on what to order.

Yamcha laughed nervously. "Well, actually, I haven't been doing much training. I mean, I know I should but I don't think I'll be much help against the androids anyway." He blushed.

"Oh, Yam, you know that's not true! You guys will need all the help you can get. Even if the saiyans are ridiculously strong, they'll need backup." She laid her hand on his and squeezed it.

"You don't understand! It's so frustrating to know that you're just part of Plan B. I used to actually be a help in the big fights we'd have, but now I'm just in the way. I'm nothing compared to Goku. It's hard to believe we used to actually be on the same level." He frowned and sighed. "Let's not talk about this. I want to have a good time with you tonight."

Bulma smiled. "You're right. It's just you and me and we're going to party it up."

"You bet! It's been way too long since you've gotten out of the house." He grinned. "And it's been way, way too long since we've—"

The waiter returned with their wine and poured it out for them. In a horrendously fake French accent he asked, "Do you know what you would like?"

Bulma snorted and tried to cover it by coughing, shooting the waiter an apologetic look. "Yes, I would like the filet mignon, please. Medium rare."

As Yamcha ordered, Bulma nursed her glass of wine. She knew what he was going to say before he was cut off, and the thought of it was very tempting. It had been lonely at Capsule Corp. Sure, she was making friends with Vegeta, but she just didn't see him as, ahem, male company. Besides, she was dating Yamcha, even if she didn't see him very often anymore.

"So, B, what have you been up to?"

Bulma was broken out of her _slightly_ dirty thoughts by the simple question. "Oh, you know, just working in the lab. I've been designing a new gravity room for Vegeta since he destroyed the old chamber. That's been taking most of my time the past couple days."

Yamcha frowned again. "I don't know why you do so much for him. He doesn't even appreciate it, he's just using you! He's not even worth it. And he's a super saiyan now so you can tell him to take a hike since he doesn't need a gravity whatever anymore."

"Yamcha, I can't just kick him out. I invited him to stay with us so he's my guest. It wouldn't be right to just say 'Oh by the way, you're stronger now so go train somewhere else.'" She rested her face in the palm of her upturned hand and swirled the wine around in her glass with her other hand.

"It's not like he would care."

"Can we not talk about him for a change? I get enough crap from him all day, I don't need you hounding me now." Bulma was getting irritated with all her friends' insistence that she retract her welcome from the saiyan prince, especially Yamcha. She knew he was just concerned, but she felt like he was trying to baby her, again.

"Fine." An uncomfortable silence settled between them, but neither knew what else to talk about. Their lives basically revolved around the mysterious youth's warning about the androids.

Bulma continued sipping her wine, anything to keep her from fidgeting in her discomfort. Yamcha was busy twiddling his thumbs. When one would look up at the other, their eyes would avert to a different direction. They felt like they were teenagers again, awkward on their first date. Finally, the waiter returned with their meals.

"Bon appétit!" he said in his horrible accent.

Now that there was an actual distraction Yamcha and Bulma focused on their food and ate quietly. Halfway through it, Bulma couldn't take the silence anymore. She had to say something. Anything. Even if it was stupid. "The food is good here."

"Yeah. I guess that's why it's rated number one in the city."

"Guess so." A humorless chuckle.

Still, Bulma was determined to make this date a good one. She hadn't been on one in a long time and she wanted to make sure this one went well in case it was another long time before her next. "Are you going to play baseball again next season?"

Yamcha shrugged and swallowed. "Maybe. I know the Taitans would take me back if I offered to play for them. I'm just more of a fighter than a baseball player."

Bulma nodded. "Yeah, but you don't make a living off of fighting."

"Sometimes the opposite, actually," Yamcha said, laughing at his own joke. It broke the tension and Bulma laughed with him. The rest of their dinner passed in a better mood, their conversation taking on a lighter note as they ate.

When they left the restaurant, Bulma was feeling a little tipsy from the three glasses of wine she drank. "So what d'you want to do, Yam, wanna hit a club?" She walked unsteadily to his car as he opened the passenger side door for her.

He grinned at her. "You must be reading my mind, B." He shut the door when she got in the car and ran around to the driver's side and climbed in. "There's a new one on fifth avenue I hear is super hard to get into. But I doubt we'll have trouble." He winked at her and pulled out into the street and took off toward the club.

Bulma and Yamcha walked to the V.I.P. entrance of the club where they were stopped by a burly looking bouncer. "Excuse me," Bulma said, insulted, "I'm _the_ Bulma Brief. You will let me in." When he apologized and stepped aside to allow them entrance, she muttered, "Fucking idiot needs to get his eyes checked."

The couple headed straight for the dance floor where an up-beat song was playing. They moved into the middle of the bouncing crowd of people, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. Bulma gesticulated wildly as she danced, grinding her ass against Yamcha's crotch in rhythm with the music. He was loving it. He put his hands on her hips and guided her closer to him as he danced.

So it continued until a slow song came on. Yamcha whirled Bulma around and pulled her close, pressing his body against hers. She craned her neck and parted her lips for a kiss, which he was happy to supply. Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He hungrily accepted it and massaged it with his own.

Soon both of them were exploring the other with their hands, a fevered heat rising deep in their cores. Their passionate kiss continued until they could hardly stand it anymore. They _needed_ more.

"Let's get out of here," Bulma panted when they broke apart to catch their breath.

Yamcha nodded dumbly, leading her out of the crowd and pulling her out the door to his car. When he slid in behind the steering wheel Bulma leaned over and took his head in her hands, pulling him over to kiss him again. She moaned when she crushed her lips against his and probed his mouth with her tongue.

Reluctantly he pulled away from her. "We'll never get to my apartment at this rate." He allowed her to pull him in for one more kiss before he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot, speeding off to get to his apartment as soon as possible.

The two lovers burst into Yamcha's apartment fifteen minutes later and hastily made their way to his bedroom. Neither was interested in foreplay tonight; no, they were looking for release they hadn't had in entirely too long. Yamcha practically tore Bulma's clothes off before undressing himself.

"Come on," Bulma moaned as she waited impatiently for him to join her on the bed. When he crawled on top of her she pulled him down to kiss him again while he spread her legs with his knee and positioned himself between them.

Yamcha pushed into her and they both gasped in pleasure before he started thrusting at a regular pace. His hands started roughly roaming around her body and squeezing her soft flesh. Sometimes it hurt enough for Bulma to think he would leave bruises, but she didn't care. She put her legs around his waist and buried her face in his chest to muffle her screams. It wasn't long before they were done, both crying out as they reached their climaxes. Yamcha collapsed on Bulma and kissed her again, less fervently than before.

A while later he rolled off her and sat up on the edge of the bed. He ran his hand through his messy hair and stood up, heading toward the bathroom for a shower. It was the same routine as always, Bulma realized. Not that she minded, it was just a little boring how predictable he was when she was looking for some excitement in their relationship. She wouldn't complain though. Sooner or later she would be able to teach him some new tricks.

Half an hour later he came back from his shower, hair dried and a towel wrapped around his waist. He got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and sat on the edge of the bed again. Bulma smiled at him and scooted over to him and kissed him again, softly.

"Thank you, Yamcha," she whispered.

"Anytime, B."

She smiled and kissed him again, letting her lips linger on his for a while this time before she pulled back. "I should get back home. Vegeta's worse than a child and I need to make sure he doesn't blow the place up."

Yamcha frowned at the mention of the saiyan, but nodded in understanding. He watched as Bulma located her panties and put them back on. She had to cross the whole room before she was completely dressed again, since he had strewn them about when he ripped them off her body.

Once she was dressed they left and drove back to Capsule Corp. All the lights were off and it looked to be intact. Bulma let out a sigh of relief when she saw her home still standing. She turned to Yamcha and kissed him one more time. "I had a good time tonight."

"Me too."

"I'll see you later." She opened the door and climbed out, waving to him as he pulled away. It was time to face the music.

Bulma opened the front door and could smell the Chinese takeout her mother must have brought home for Vegeta. She looked in the kitchen and, as she had suspected, there were several large white boxes sitting on the table. Strangely though, they were untouched. She shrugged and went upstairs, figuring he must be sulking in his room.

She knocked on his door but got no response. She had expected as much. Bulma peeked her head in the door and looked around, but he was nowhere in sight. She furrowed her brows and went into his room, flipping the light on as she shut the door behind her. She was shocked to see the bed completely torn up. It was hard to tell what it had once been. "Vegeta," she muttered in disgust. That mattress wasn't cheap.

The wind blew in the balcony door, alerting her to the fact that it was ajar. She slowly went over to the doors, a sense of foreboding nagging at the back of her mind. She opened the door enough to slip out and gasped in horror at what she saw.

Her bare foot had stepped right into a pool of partially congealed blood. She quickly moved back, her eyes glued on what lay before her. The concrete balcony railing had been cracked in two places and one large piece was broken off completely. Lying on the balcony floor was the lifeless body of the saiyan prince, face contorted in pain. The blood had apparently oozed from a deep wound on his left temple, the skin completely torn away from his skull, which appeared to be fractured. He was, fortunately, still breathing shallowly.

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand and stepped back into his room. She was shaking all over and felt like she might be sick. "Mom! Dad!" she shrieked. "Help! Please help!"

She sank to her knees and stared at his body, willing him to get up and wipe the wound away as if it were never there. He didn't move. She was barely breathing now. She waited a solid five minutes, but her parents didn't come. She didn't know what to do, her brain had stopped functioning. 'This is my fault. It's all my fault,' was all she could think, over and over.

She finally crawled back out onto the balcony, carefully avoiding the pooled blood, and shook Vegeta's shoulders. "Wake up, you jerk! Wake the fuck up! Wake up! Wake up!" she screamed at him, shaking harder. She was trembling so much her teeth clattered together, but she kept screaming at the unconscious prince.

When he wouldn't wake up she held his head to her chest and finally, as if she had been holding it back, a gut-wrenching sob wracked her body. She sobbed so hard her chest hurt, but she couldn't stop. No tears came, but she sobbed and sobbed, rocking his body as she was helpless to do anything else.

"Wake up, you idiot. You fucking idiot. I'll hate you forever if you don't," she whispered. Slowly her mind started to work again, going into overdrive to make up for its lapse. Goku! Goku could help. She gently laid Vegeta back down and ran into his room and grabbed her cell phone from her purse. She dialed the Son household and nearly screamed with impatience as it rang.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered.

"ChiChi, it's Bulma. I need Goku, now!" her voice was frantic by now.

"Bulma? What's wrong?"

"Never mind that, just send Goku, now, please," Bulma begged. She had gone back out to the balcony and was cradling Vegeta's head in her lap. She heard ChiChi rousing Goku from sleep on the other end of the line. There was a frustrated growl and a thud as a heavy body hit the floor. There was some indecipherable explanation given and then silence. ChiChi picked the phone back up.

"He'll be right –"

Goku teleported right in front of Bulma, almost stepping on Vegeta. "He's here," Bulma cut her off and hung up, throwing her phone on the ground.

Goku yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was only wearing his boxers that he slept in and didn't look like he was fully awake yet. Bulma was nearly in hysterics. "Goku, it's Vegeta. We have to get him to the infirmary."

His eyes widened when he saw what was wrong and knelt down and picked Vegeta up as if he weighed nothing. Bulma motioned for him to follow as she raced out of his room, downstairs, and down the long hall to the infirmary. Goku was right on her heels when she brought them into a room with a single bed in the middle.

Goku laid Vegeta down and backed away as Bulma ripped his shirt off and started sticking electrodes on his chest to measure his vitals. He yelped and looked away when she put an IV in his arm to replenish his dehydrated body with fluids lost from bleeding.

Bulma carefully cleaned the wound on his head, gritting her teeth when she was able to see the fracture better without the blood covering it. It didn't look as though it had damaged his brain, but it was nasty nonetheless. "Why would he do this?" she asked no one in particular.

She finished cleaning it and decided that it would probably be able to heal itself without any surgery. She thanked Kami for saiyans' bodies being able to recover from pretty much any injury. Since he was unconscious anyway, she skipped the anesthetic and stitched him up before applying antibacterial ointment and bandaging his head, wrapping it around his head to bring the broken bone together to help it heal faster.

"Thank you, Goku," she mumbled as she cleaned the blood off Vegeta's face. She checked his vitals and saw that everything was stable. He had probably just knocked himself out and would take a while to wake up.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"I think so. I hope so. I still don't know why…" she trailed off. "I don't know why he would do this because I went out with Yamcha." Her voice was cracking as she choked back the lump in her throat.

Goku shrugged. "Maybe he's jealous."

"Why would he be jealous? He doesn't love me." She was gently stroking Vegeta's hair and watching for any sign of him regaining consciousness.

"It's hard to tell with Vegeta."

Bulma glanced up at the younger saiyan with a quizzical, if not suspicious, look before turning back to the prince. "I know he doesn't, Goku. I can tell. He's having a hard enough time just trusting me to be his friend, I don't think love is even on his radar."

Goku scratched the back of his head. They needed to fall in love sometime. If they didn't, they might not ever couple for Trunks to be conceived. "What about you, Bulma?"

She looked at him suspiciously again. "What do you mean, 'what about you?'"

He grinned and laughed nervously. "Nothing," he said. "I was just wondering how you've been getting along with him."

"We're getting along fine," she said, raising her eyebrow. "We've actually been spending a lot of time together lately."

"Kaka…rrot?"

Bulma and Goku both turned to Vegeta. "Vegeta? Can you hear me?" Bulma asked.

"Get…out."

"Who?" she prodded.

"You."

Bulma's heart dropped through the floor. She tried to think of an excuse. He wasn't actually awake, he was dreaming or something. And he wanted someone to leave, but he didn't mean her. He was unconscious, and delusional, and—

"Get. Out." The words were more forceful this time.

Bulma looked at Goku, looking for help. He shrugged helplessly.

"But, Vegeta, you're hurt and I'm taking care of you. I can't leave."

His eyes slowly opened and he turned to glare at her. She could feel his hatred burning through her. She swallowed hard and backed up until she bumped into Goku. How was it that, even when in such a vulnerable state, his presence was so fearsome? She opened the door and looked over her shoulder once before walking out.

Goku was not oblivious to the exchange that happened in front of him. He may have been clueless about many things, but not his friend's emotional state. She was miserable, and the reason behind it was the saiyan lying on the bed. He frowned at Vegeta. "What's your problem? She was just trying to help."

"Shut up."

"No. I want to know what your deal is."

Goku felt the mental link between him and the prince open up, giving him a strange sense of connection to the usually distant and guarded older saiyan. _'My problem is that infernal woman. I do not want to see her.'_

"Why? She hasn't done anything to you." Goku was not sure how to project his thoughts across the link so he kept talking out loud.

_'Like hell she hasn't. She's making me lose my mind. One moment I think I can trust her and the next she's throwing it in my face. And I find myself unable to keep my guard up around her. She's weakening me.'_

Goku thought the voice speaking in his mind sounded very bitter, yet honest. On the outside Vegeta's face was stoic, he wasn't even looking at him. 'Maybe he's saying it directly in my head because he can't stand to say it out loud,' Goku reasoned. It made sense. Vegeta probably did not even want to admit it himself, let alone to his rival. And yet, he was.

_'Your presumptions astound me. How dare you think you can understand my motives?'_

Goku's eyes darted to the prince, confused. He hadn't said anything aloud.

_'Fool, I can hear your thoughts. You do not know how to guard your mind, leaving everything in that pathetic head of yours as fair game for eavesdropping.'_

Knowing that could be dangerous in case he were to think of someone from the future, Goku tried to control where his thoughts went as he returned to the subject of Bulma. "Anyway, I don't think you should blame Bulma for anything. She's a really good person. She'd never break your trust. And besides, I think she really likes you. Maybe loves you." Goku was surprised to find that Vegeta could scoff mentally. Or had it been out loud? It was hard to tell.

_'If that were true, it is unfortunate for her. I want nothing to do with her.'_

A sly smirk appeared on the younger saiyan's face as he replied knowingly, "Aw, Vegeta, I don't think that's true. I think you really care for her and you're just covering it."

_'You third class idiot. I couldn't lie through the mental link if I wanted to stoop so low.'_

Goku's smirk faded as he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. He forced himself to concentrate on hot dogs so he wouldn't accidentally give anything away about how Vegeta and Bulma were supposed to come together and conceive Trunks.

_'Besides, your logic is flawed. You know as well as I that she smells of the weakling. Even I know that if someone _loves_ another they don't go around fucking someone else.'_

"Vegeta, are you jealous?"

The mental link abruptly cut off and Vegeta closed his eyes, silently dismissing his annoying visitor. Such a foolish question was not even worthy of acknowledgement. Goku waited a few minutes, but finally nodded, understanding what was expected of him. He quietly opened the door and left to find the blue-haired woman before returning home.

He found her in her bedroom, changed into pajamas and make-up washed off her face. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands in her lap as a lone tear slowly fell down her cheek. "Bulma."

Bulma looked up at her old friend and then dropped her head again. "He hates me, doesn't he?"

"That's not something I can tell you," he said slowly, picking his words carefully. "I think something is bothering him that might have been triggered by something you did, but he won't talk about it."

She sneered. "Well, that's new."

"Bulma, don't be mad at him, please."

She drew in a shaky breath and raised her head to look into Goku's calm black eyes. "I'm not mad at him. I'm just frustrated. I'm mad at myself and I don't even know what I did."

Goku sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him. "It's not your fault," he reassured her. "He's a good guy, you know, deep down."

Bulma nodded, happy to know someone agreed with her. "I know he is. But he's so unstable. The smallest thing can set him off. Tonight I guess he got pissed because I went out with Yamcha and he wanted me to stay here with him. I think he's gotten attached to me." She sounded guilty. She knew he never wanted ties to anyone but she had practically forced it on him. And now he was hurting because of it.

While he should have been more concerned about his friend's guilt and worries, the gloomy thoughts he had been nurturing were immediately brightened when he heard her say Vegeta had become attached to her. "Really? Bulma, that's great! He needs someone like you." His mind was filled with pictures of a lavender-haired baby and he almost giggled with excitement. Trunks would still have a chance to be born!

His hopes were dashed when she said, "No, I'm not sure about that anymore. It might be better to just let him go and keep his distance. I don't want to hurt him again. He's already so broken. I just wanted to help, but I don't think I can." She choked back the lump in her throat that she had begun to know intimately the past few days. She refused to cry again. She wouldn't.

"But Bulma…"

She shook her head. "Don't argue," she told him, "I think it's for the best. He doesn't want anything to do with me anymore anyway."

Goku didn't have the heart to tell her that that is exactly what Vegeta had said. He entertained some ideas of how to play matchmaker to the proud, stubborn people, but he feared making the situation worse. He knew better than anyone that if they felt they were being pushed to do something they would rebel and do just the opposite. Besides, he wasn't very skilled in bringing couples together for a wild night of romance and sex.

"Is he ok?"

Goku nodded. "He's fine, I think."

"I swear I'm going to have to build that idiot a rejuvenation tank. He needs it often enough." Her mouth twisted into a wry smile and Goku chuckled lightly. It was true. For being among the most powerful beings in the universe, Vegeta sure did get beat up a lot.

"Well, I'd better go. Chi's probably getting worried." Bulma smiled as she thought about the high-strung brunette. It didn't take much to worry her, actually.

"Yeah. Thanks for helping, Goku." He just smiled and waved as he raised his two fingers to his forehead and blinked out of sight.

Bulma sat still, eyes remaining fixed on where Goku had disappeared from. Her thoughts stilled as she strengthened her resolve to leave Vegeta be. If he wanted her as a friend, he could come to her. She was done pushing herself on him. She yawned and glanced at the clock, which told her it was time for bed. Agreeing, she turned out the lights and slid into bed. It wasn't long before sleep welcomed her into its gentle embrace.

Vegeta's head was throbbing. He gingerly touched the bandage on his temple, then tore it off and winced slightly at the stinging pain. He ripped the electrodes from his body and the IV from his arm. He'd be damned if he accepted any help from the woman again. He jumped off the hard bed and left the room, tail flicking around behind him in agitation.

He clenched his right fist and rotated his wrist as he walked. There was no pain pulsing dully in his arm anymore, yet the cast remained. He stopped walking and examined the cast, wondering how it came off. He tapped it with his left hand and found that it was quite hard. It probably had to be cut off. Vegeta sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and formed a ki blade.

Slowly, carefully, he sliced through the fiberglass, making sure not to cut too deep and injure himself. He dissipated the blade when he reached the cottony layer around his skin and pulled the fiberglass off, quickly followed by the cotton. He flexed his arm and clenched and unclenched his fist, turning his wrist from side to side. It seemed he had completely healed. He smirked in satisfaction but remained sitting in the brightly lit hallway.

He leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and drew one knee up to his chest and rested his arm on it. The anger he had been infected with was ebbing away, leaving a low burning sensation in his gut. It was a familiar feeling, almost comforting, since he had barely lived a day of his life without it. It had been largely absent for much of the past week, and he was almost glad to have it back. Anger was part of his identity. It was the fuel that kept him going, when even pride fled from him.

Anger and pride. The trademark emotions of a saiyan prince. They were all he had and all he needed. Forget the other things others bragged about: companionship, courage, chivalry, _love_. It had become clear to him that he had all that mattered all along. His honor and his rage.

Vegeta sat for a long time, his mind emptied of all thoughts, his heart dead to all emotion. He was entirely numb aside from the constant burning inside. The burning at the very core of his being. He meditated on it, stoked the embers, worshiped it. After a while he laughed, a cold, forced sound that died in the air around him. 'I was a fool,' he thought, 'and I paid the price for my foolishness. I now know why I was taught to keep myself distant from all others. How I was able to survive in solitude under Frieza. It is the only safe way to live.'

His lithe body rose and, with royal poise, stalked down the hall to the main part of the compound. The customary scowl carved onto his regal features and tail wrapped militantly around his waist, he opened the front door and stepped outside. The warm, damp night air was like a thick blanket. Vegeta inhaled deeply and looked up at the sky, an orange light from the city obscuring the stars. He suddenly felt confined, trapped with no way out.

Vegeta reentered the compound and went to his bedroom where he pulled his navy blue bodysuit out of the closet. He put it on, pulled his mangled chest armor he had worn on Namek over his head, and stepped into his white boots. Last, he slid his hands into his tattered white gloves. He stood ramrod straight in the middle of his room, his demeanor the essence of royalty despite the sad shape of his attire.

He felt calm once he was dressed. No longer exposed, vulnerable. Walking out to his balcony, he stepped in his own congealed blood, which stained his boots crimson. He smirked and flicked his tongue over his long canine. Time to do what he did best. He shot into the air, laughing the maniacal howl of his past.

He ascended high into the atmosphere, far above the level of commercial jets. He looked down at the twinkling lights of West City and sneered. Above him he could see the superior light of the stars, ageless and magnificent. The air was cooler at that height, and he found it refreshing and invigorating. A slight wind blew through his hair and he inhaled deeply again. The air here was fresh, the scent untainted by technology.

"I am free," he said to the lights below him. Then he shouted to the stars, "I am Prince Vegeta, no one can lord their power over me! Frieza is dead and I am the most powerful being in the universe! It is mine for the taking!" He laughed again, the resounding insanity ringing in his ears as his ki flared up and he darted off to the west.

_A/N: I do __**NOT**__ condone pre-marital sex. Call me old-fashioned, I don't care. But I do think it's unrealistic for characters like Bulma and Yamcha to date for 15 years and never have sex. I know their sex wasn't detailed or very interesting, but I didn't want it to be._

_And sorry about the somewhat late update. Suffice it to say I was extremely busy yesterday and I didn't wake up today until 4PM. Sigh._

_Vegeta's gone crazy again! What does he do best? Find out in the next chapter!_

_Song: "Scared" by Three Days Grace_


	14. Chapter 14

Warning: Violence.

Chapter 14

_I'm a monster, I'm a killer  
I know I'm wrong, yeah  
I'm a problem  
That'll never ever be solved_

Vegeta flew through the night sky, his dark form moving in the dim light of the stars shining billions of miles away. He was silent as an angel of death, his black hair billowing in the wind and his onyx eyes glazed over in madness. He grinned, his mouth twisted more into a feral snarl as the shimmering starlight caught his white teeth, accentuating his razor canines.

He landed near a small clearing in a heavily wooded area, thin beams of light breaking through the dense foliage from the unsuspecting village. Vegeta prowled the edge of the clearing, spotting no one outside in the wee hours of morning. It was perfect, a lamb without blemish all for his taking. He silently crept into the middle of the town, sniffing the air as the scents of his victims wafted on the breeze.

Vegeta kept to the shadows as he made his way around, listening for signs of life in the dark houses, the only source of light the streetlamps at each corner. It was peaceful, quiet, calm. Not for long.

He opened the back door of a prominent house, belonging most likely to either the richest or most powerful family in the area. It was unlocked, verifying his belief that it was a close-knit community where the townspeople trusted one another. His grinned again, the anticipation rising in his gut as he silently entered the home, salivating at the thought of tasting chaos.

He sniffed, the fragrance of the family's last meal still hanging in the air. He could smell three children and two adults. Their scents grew stronger as he reached the stairway and he knew their bedrooms were on the second story. He went upstairs, the stairs not even creaking beneath him. Vegeta's tail unwound from his waist and flicked slowly behind him as he stalked through the hallway. There were four doors, only one of which was open; he could see that it was just a vacant bathroom.

He pushed the nearest door open and dropped to his hands and knees as he entered the room. There was a child, maybe ten years old, sleeping in the bed across the room. Seeing no threat, Vegeta rose again to his feet and casually strode over to the side of the bed. If he had any sanity up to that point it fled from him as the bloodlust clouded his judgment. In a heartbeat he had the child by the throat and was raising him into the air. He heard his frightened gasp, saw his eyes widen in horror, and felt his kicking and clawing at his hands as he tried uselessly to scream.

Vegeta smirked. "Consider it an honor," he said, his voice dripping with madness, "to be the first victim of Prince Vegeta on this mudball planet." He threw the child through the wall adjacent to the next room where the other children were sleeping.

The younger children shot up in bed and screamed when they saw the broken wall and the lifeless body of their brother lying on the floor. Vegeta leaped through the hole in the wall and sank his teeth into the throat of the child closest to his first kill. Blood seeped into his mouth and down his chest as he tore out a warm hunk of flesh, silencing the child forever. Before he could reach the next child the parents came sprinting into the room.

"What's going on?" the man asked as the woman searched for the light switch.

"Mommy!" the youngest child, a girl, whimpered through hysterical tears.

Vegeta stood and straightened his back as the lights came on, revealing the carnage. He grinned at the horrified expressions on the faces of the three living residents and licked his bloody lips. "Greetings," he said casually as he wrapped his tail around his waist.

The woman ran to her youngest and grabbed her into her arms tightly. "What kind of monster are you?" she screamed, maternal instincts overriding caution.

"The kind that goes bump in the night," he smirked, clearly pleased with his joke. He watched calmly as the man raised his arm, showing the baseball bat he held in his hand as a warning. Vegeta threw his head back and laughed, its chilling sound freezing the blood of the remaining family members. "I do so love it when the weak ones go down fighting."

He crouched down before pouncing on the man, knocking him to the floor. The man barely had time to crash the bat down on the saiyan's shoulder as he fell unconscious when his head cracked loudly against the floorboards. Blood pooled around his shattered skull. Vegeta rose and turned to the woman and her daughter. "Now how do you want to die?" His tail flicked playfully behind him as he advanced on them, now huddling in the corner. "What's that? No answer? Then I'll have to kill you," he said, looking the woman directly in the eye, "and then her."

The woman pushed her child behind her, ignoring the screams of protest, and held her arms out to her sides. "Get away from her, you demon," she growled.

Vegeta brought his finger to his chin and crossed his other arm over his chest. He cocked his head as he appeared to think her implied threat over. "Demon? No, I am not a demon." He chuckled, sending shivers down the woman's spine. "But no matter, it is a common misconception." With that, he grabbed one of her arms and flung her into the wall, dazing her. She shook her head and groaned in pain.

"Please, let her live," she begged as she tried to get to her feet.

Vegeta shot a glance over his shoulder at the cowering human child, then looked back at the woman. "Now that wouldn't be fair. Everyone else in this town is about to die, why spare her?"

The woman's eyes widened in horror and was rendered speechless by the casual way he told her he was going to murder almost a thousand people. In a second he was on her again, pinning her against the wall. She looked straight into his crazed eyes as his hand dove into her abdomen and ripped her entrails out. The last thing she heard before she died was his incessant laughter echoing through the room.

Vegeta whirled around on his heel and grinned. "Well, kid, looks like it's just you and me." The girl was visibly shaking, soft whimpers dying in her throat as she stood helpless to defend herself from the hellish creature standing before her. With one swift kick her neck snapped and her body landed on the floor next to her siblings with a faint thud.

The saiyan, having disposed of the whole family, went back downstairs, grabbed some food from the refrigerator, and left the house, ready to move on to the next. The rest of the night passed in much the same way, with Vegeta breaking into a house, murdering all its inhabitants, pillaging some food, and leaving. He took his time killing, having no time pressure as he would have on a purge for Frieza. It was most satisfying being able to enjoy each death.

By the crack of dawn not a soul survived in the small village, save that of the saiyan prince himself. The smell of blood and fear was thick in the air when he took off into the sky. He looked back at the place and made a last second decision. He formed a medium ki ball in his left hand and tossed it at the center of the clearing. The explosion that followed engulfed the entire town, obliterating the buildings completely. He snickered and flew away.

Goku jerked up in bed. 'That felt like Vegeta's ki not too far away. But why would he be in the mountains, and what would he have attacked?' Goku got out of bed and quickly dressed before running out of the house and leaping into the air, flying northeast to where he had felt the ki attack.

What he found ten minutes later crushed his heart. There was a clearing in the forest full of the smoking ruins of a village. He could not sense a living person within a mile radius and he knew that everyone who had been in the town was gone. What he couldn't understand was why it had been destroyed. There could be no rhyme or reason behind it. And, much to his chagrin, the scene reeked of the saiyan prince. No one else could have committed this heinous act.

Vegeta landed on his balcony at Capsule Corp and strolled into his room, peeling his bloody armor off his body. He left his armor, boots, gloves, and body suit in a tidy pile just outside the balcony door and crawled into his nest, burying himself under the covers and nuzzling into the pillows, the thrill of the hunt still pumping through his veins and the smell of burning gore filling his nostrils.

Goku was furious. His vision blurred as his anger became blinding rage. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, the veins in his arms standing out as his muscles flooded with suppressed ki. He had been with Vegeta the night before and hadn't even _guessed_ that something like this would happen. Had he just been completely oblivious? Or blissfully trusting? It didn't matter. Innocent lives had been taken because Vegeta was allowed freedom to do as he pleased. He should have known it was a bad idea to leave him where he could not be monitored.

Vegeta yawned as his tail curled at the tip and beat rhythmically against his bed of pillows. He was tired but he could not sleep; as usual, after a particularly fun-filled night of killing, he was unable to calm his body enough to sleep, the rush it brought refusing to wear off. He stretched out lazily and smirked as his mind reviewed each slaughter, the helpless fright evident on his victims' faces. Terror, that was what he was intimately familiar with seeing in the eyes of those he met. It was a beautiful sight. It made him feel powerful, unstoppable, _free_. And that night he had desperately needed to express his freedom.

His sanity was slowly returning when Goku's form instantly appeared next to him. Vegeta decided to ignore him, closing his eyes as he feigned sleep. Still, his body was on edge as he waited for a physical attack from the other saiyan. In a snap he flung himself into the air when a well-placed kick would have landed in the small of his back.

Vegeta landed on his hands and knees on the other side of the room and growled at Goku, his tail bristling and flicking angrily behind him. "What do you want, Kakarrot?" he snarled.

Goku glared at him and shouted through clenched teeth, "You killed them! Why?"

"What? Were they friends of yours?" Vegeta taunted as he crouched, ready to pounce.

An angry, guttural sound erupted from Goku's mouth as he charged at the saiyan prince. "They were innocent people!"

"What the fuck do I care?" Vegeta leapt into the air and landed behind his bewildered opponent.

Goku turned and snarled. "You had no right to take their lives." His voice was calm and cold. Anyone else might have been trembling in their boots, but Vegeta just smirked.

"And you have no right to expect me to live by your morals. I'm not _human_." The last word was said with such disgust that Vegeta grimaced as he spat it out. The door to his room opened and the blue-haired woman raced in to find out what was going on.

"Goku? What are you doing here?" She turned to Vegeta and promptly blushed a deep crimson. "And why aren't you wearing any clothes?" she mumbled as she looked away.

"Get out of here, Bulma," Goku ordered, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. He faced Vegeta again and moved into his fighting stance.

She shook her head fervently and demanded, "What's going on?"

That was when Vegeta spoke up, saying smugly, "He's upset that I murdered a few people." Her eyes widened in shock before she turned to Goku for confirmation.

"A few people?" he hissed at the older saiyan. "You slaughtered an entire village!"

Vegeta shrugged. The number of people he killed was irrelevant. Bulma felt sick.

"So wish them back with the fucking dragonballs. Waste a wish. Like I give a damn." Vegeta rose to his full height and growled at the other warrior, tail flicking angrily as he demanded submission.

Bulma answered before Goku could go on his self-righteous hero speech about how killing was wrong even if the lives could be wished back. "We will. Goku, calm down and go get the dragon radar out of my lab. It's in the top right desk drawer. You can go find the dragonballs and I'll stay here with Vegeta."

When it looked as though Goku was going to refuse, Vegeta growled louder and gnashed his teeth at him. As if he had just unleashed the most terrifying known threat in the universe, Goku backed off and left the room without a word.

Vegeta crossed the room and crawled into his nest again. He wrapped his tail around his waist this time as he pulled the blankets over his head. He knew the woman was still standing in his room, probably looking at him, but he didn't care. He just wanted to sleep after his nocturnal outing.

Finally, Bulma said quietly, "He's right, you know. You can't just go around killing people. Next time he's going to stop you." That said, she left his room to go lie down. She was feeling a lot of stress knowing that she was housing such a heartless beast.

As Bulma sat in her lab, she was having second thoughts about building the gravity room for Vegeta. The materials for it had arrived, but now it didn't seem like such a good idea to help him build his strength. What if he overtook Goku by a wide enough margin that he could not be stopped if he decided to go through with his plan of destroying the world? The easiest solution was to just not create the gravity room. Destroy all the plans, get rid of the construction materials. But what would he do if he was refused the new training equipment?

She could find no consolation in knowing that he was going to help them defeat the androids. Her thoughts were focused on what would happen _after_ that threat was destroyed. 'It's obvious he has no conscience,' she thought. 'He couldn't kill all those people and act like it didn't matter if he had one. Maybe he really is a monster. Evil.'

Bulma heard the door of her lab open followed by the soft smack of bare feet on the metal floor. Her whole body tensed, already knowing who was standing behind her.

"You fear me again. I can smell it on you."

"What do you expect? I just learned this morning that you killed hundreds of people."

She heard a disinterested snort. It terrified her that he could be like that.

"When will the gravity room be finished?"

Bulma hesitated. She had not come to any decisive conclusion about whether or not to actually go through with building it for him. "I…I don't know. Maybe never," she mumbled.

Vegeta's roaming eyes snapped back to the blue-haired woman when he heard that. "Never?" His mouth formed the word but he didn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. She didn't have the guts to kick him out or refuse his demands. "You do not trust me. Get over it."

Bulma shook her head slowly. "It's not that easy, Vegeta. How do I know you won't use your increased strength to kill more people? I couldn't live with myself knowing that I helped arm the greatest weapon against mankind." Her shoulders were back, showing confidence she did not feel, especially when she felt the heat from his body on her back.

She felt a strong hand around her throat. "The only difference between before and now is that you're thinking about it. You will build the gravity room, or I will destroy this pathetic planet with the strength I already possess."

The blue-haired scientist swallowed hard and tears stung in the corners of her eyes. "Goku would stop you."

The grip on her throat tightened slightly, making breathing more difficult. She tried to stay calm, telling herself that he wouldn't actually hurt her. "He can't stop me if he's dead."

Bulma tried to push his hand away and was surprised that he let her. "He never loses a fight when it counts," she told him with trust and admiration for the savior of Earth in her voice.

Vegeta sneered and turned to leave. "You will have the gravity room built in one week. If you have it ready sooner I might spare you when I destroy this mudball." His footsteps faded as he left the lab and Bulma sighed heavily. He didn't tell her what he would do if she failed to obey him, but she had a pretty good idea. Her hands were tied. She had to build it.

Vegeta stormed out the back door of Capsule Corp and took to the sky. Wearing only a pair of training shorts he could feel the sun's warm rays beating on his bare back and the wind rushing over his skin and through his hair. His tail trailed behind him, fluttering in the wind. He flew through clouds, and beads of moisture clung to his brows, his tail, and his hair. He spiraled down to the ground and straight back up into the upper atmosphere. For the life of him he could not understand why the woman and Kakarrot got so ruffled over a few meaningless deaths. How had they affected them? What was the point of having the power to give or take life if it could not be used? All his life all he had known was death and destruction. It was a _way_ of life.

"Who are they to judge me?" he asked the clear sky above as he flew on his back. "Did they think I had become domesticated simply because I reside here for now?" He snorted and flipped over, speeding his flight as he felt a familiar burning growing in his gut. "I will not change what I am to live by their standards. What would be the point? I have no soul."

He felt Goku's ki ahead of him and remembered that he had gone off in search of the dragonballs. He masked his ki and floated down to the ground and landed in a plain with tall grass that reached his chest. Vegeta moved downwind of the other saiyan and lowered himself to his hands and knees and crept forward. 'I think I'll just have a little fun while we're both here.'

Like a cat stalking his prey Vegeta soundlessly moved through the cover of grass toward Goku. When he was only three yards away he pounced, tackling his prey to the ground. Goku didn't have time to react before he was pinned under the smirking prince. "Vegeta?" he shouted, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Oh I don't know, I just thought I'd help collect the dragonballs since it _was_ my doing that created the need to summon the dragon." Sarcasm dripped from his words, but Goku didn't notice. He too desperately wanted to believe Vegeta wasn't a bad person.

"Really? That would be a huge help, thanks!"

Vegeta looked at the grinning man beneath him with disgust. "You are a fool," he spat. "I did not and still do not care about the lives that I took. I am not here to help you."

Goku's face fell. "But you said…"

"Do you even _know_ the meaning of sarcasm, you idiot? You're so trusting you'll believe anything anyone tells you."

"I thought you never lied."

"It is not lying if your statement is not _supposed_ to be believed. It is just saying the truth backwards." Vegeta stood up and crossed his arms, any fun he could have had disappearing the longer he was forced to communicate with the low class buffoon.

Goku sat up and frowned. "Then why are you here, really?"

The saiyan prince shrugged. "I still have no gravity room to train in. I was seeking something worthwhile to do when I sensed your ki. I came because I was hoping I could pick a fight with you, but that's nearly impossible since you won't even fucking defend yourself. Tell me, did you even sense me approaching at all?"

The younger saiyan scratched the back of his head before answering. "No, not really. You must be really sneaky."

Vegeta sneered. "That or you're a bumbling, oblivious fool." He turned away from his rival and levitated off the ground. "Next time I hope you'll at least be facing me when I take you down." He shot off into the sky before any reply could be made.

The prince juggled two dragonballs as he flew away, snickering to himself at his ability to take them from right under Kakarrot's nose. It was pathetic, really. As he flew he threw the balls in different directions, just to make the fool's search more difficult. Vegeta circled the planet several times before he returned to Capsule Corp, only slightly winded after his excursion. He walked into the kitchen and raided the refrigerator before going to the indoor garden.

Bulma had called in a team of construction workers to help build the gravity room in the short time allowed her. The groundwork had already been laid out and she was busy in her lab programming the chip for the gravity console. Her father was at the office that day so she was left to get the massive project started on her own. Her eyes burned, having stared at the glaring computer screen for hours on end as she typed in the program.

When it was finally completed she sighed and leaned back in her chair as she rubbed her temples. She was having conflicted emotions about when the gravity room was completed. On the bright side, Vegeta would be able to resume his intense training and stay out of her hair. Hopefully it would also end any nighttime adventures that ended with pointless casualties. But then, she also wouldn't seem him very much at all, only at meal times, if that. Even though she was horrified by what he had done, she had invited him as her guest knowing his violent nature. Really it shouldn't have come as a shock to her to hear that he had killed innocent people just for fun. He was an animal. He said it himself. And she couldn't expect an animal to abide by the ethics of man even if he was capable of understanding them.

"Miss Brief," a man's voice addressed her, "the frame for the room is completed. It's getting late and the men would like to be dismissed."

Bulma turned and nodded to the foreman of the construction crew. "You can go. I expect everyone here by seven in the morning." She turned back to her computer and yawned. It was past dinner time and she had not eaten since breakfast. Her stomach growled and she decided to go get dinner before she started building the gravity console.

Mrs. Brief was in the kitchen cleaning up the dinner dishes when Bulma walked in the kitchen. "Oh, Bulma dear, you just missed dinner. I didn't want to disturb you since you were so busy." She took a clean plate out of the cupboard and loaded it with food before popping it in the microwave.

"Thanks, Mom. I finished programming the chip so I'm going to start building the console tonight. Hopefully I'll have it finished in a couple days." Bulma took the plate out of the microwave and ate her food quickly, eager to return to work.

"That's nice, deary." Mrs. Brief wasn't really interested in the details of her daughter's work.

Bulma finished her food and put her plate in the sink before grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and going back to her lab to work. If she managed her time well enough, she wouldn't have to pull any all-nighters to get the gravity room done by Vegeta's deadline.

Late that night Bulma figured she had reached a good enough stopping point. She set her tools down and stretched, having bent over her work for far too long. She left her lab and dragged herself up to her room where she barely managed to change into pajamas before collapsing on her bed, instantly asleep.

_A/N: Vegeta's not being very honorable, huh? You might be wondering about his rediscovery of honor by now. Don't worry, it'll happen. And more conflict between him and Bulma… how will it be settled this time? _Will_ it be settled? You'll just have to wait and see._

_Also, I'd like to say thank you for all the reviews on chapter 12. You really blew me away. Think you can do it again? :D_

_Song: "Amazing" by Kanye West … Can I just say I think this could be Vegeta's theme song?_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_I want to heal, I want to feel like I'm close to something real  
I want to find something I've wanted all along  
Somewhere I belong_

The next week rushed by as Bulma spent her days buried in her lab working on the gravity console, the gravity simulator, and the emergency override system. The construction crew made record time in building the domed room, having been given substantial bonuses for quick completion. It was the sixth day since Vegeta had given the deadline to Bulma and she was finishing up the room by installing the air conditioning. A final touch he would surely appreciate, she thought.

The gravity room was much larger than the chamber had been, allowing him more freedom of movement and the ability to spar without being too cramped. Bulma had even thrown together some older model training bots that had been upgraded to withstand higher gravity. All in all, it was a job well done, and Vegeta simply _had_ to be impressed with her work after giving her such a short period of time to do it in. She was determined to show him that she wasn't afraid of him anymore. She would meet his deadline, not because she feared his threat, but because she was proving she was capable and worthy of respect.

Vegeta had been avoiding the woman since the day he talked to her in the lab. What he had told Goku was true: he wanted nothing to do with her. She confused him and made him feel things and do things that he hated. He feared going soft, being tamed, losing the cold detachment of a true warrior. Much to her credit, Bulma had not sought him out even though she was starting to miss his presence. In all the months he had been staying at Capsule Corp, he had never been so scarce. She was lonely, but she stuck to her decision to let him distance himself.

As for the saiyan himself, he found it more difficult to shake off the feelings of companionship he had with the woman than he had originally thought it would be. He caught his mind drifting more times than he'd like to admit with the lack of training that would keep him preoccupied. He kept up his solitary training, usually in the back yard of the compound, even though it came nowhere near pushing his limits. It was frustrating for him, and when he became bored he often had to squelch the unwanted desire to seek out the woman and spend time with her. He refused to let himself see her, knowing that he might give in to the desire and sacrifice his pride for the sake of being with her, to be able to smell her sweet scent. To just not be _alone_.

Whenever he started thinking about finding the blue-haired scientist for his entertainment he would throw himself harder into his training, angry that he had, indeed, become very used to her presence, if not to the point of craving it. If he would even consider changing his mind about avoiding her, the voice in his head would reprimand his foolishness until he wanted to smash his brains in to silence it.

Vegeta watched the construction of the gravity room from afar. Whenever the woman came to check up on its progress he would disappear, finding any other place a better place to be. She never knew he had been there, and he wanted to keep it that way.

The day before it was completed, Goku and Gohan had come to Capsule Corp with the seven dragonballs. They and Bulma summoned the dragon and resurrected the small village he had destroyed. Vegeta watched them from his balcony, arms crossed as he sneered in disdain. He considered them merely sentimental in the way they were willing to give up one precious wish just to bring back some plebeians no one would even miss. And sentimentality was something he hated.

More irritating had been his following encounter with the younger saiyan when he was confronted about his 'meaningless' killing spree. He was astounded at the nerve of the clown trying to force his earthling morals down his throat. He'd already told him that he was not human and therefore could not be expected to act like one. If he wanted to kill again, he could and would do it without hesitation. After all, he had the power to take life, why waste it?

But, even more than his irritation was his confusion when he saw the disappointment in the young demi-saiyan's eyes when he looked at him. Why in the world would the brat feel anything like that for him? It made him feel uneasy, as if the boy's innocent eyes were looking into the deadness of his soul, scrutinizing it, and coming to the conclusion that he was worse than he ever imagined. He didn't bother with any speeches about the wrongness of killing, but his eyes were more effective than any words Kakarrot could spew at him. Disappointment. Why?

It wasn't as if Vegeta had led him on to believe he was a good man. They never particularly got along, and one of his favorite pastimes was beating the life out of his father. So, why then would he feel disappointed in Vegeta for killing some people he didn't even know? It made no sense and it bothered Vegeta more than he would let on. Fear he could understand. Maybe hatred, or even disgust. But _disappointment?_ The boy had to right to be disappointed in him.

_Goku stormed out of the room, frustrated that Vegeta wasn't listening to him. Though the lives had been restored, he was still aggravated with the older saiyan for taking them in the first place. What was he supposed to do? Keep a close watch on him to make sure he didn't repeat his crime? He didn't have the time to do so, and even if he did, he knew Vegeta wouldn't stand for it. He had no choice but to hope he would choose not to kill again._

_ Gohan remained in the room after his father left. He felt awkward around the saiyan prince, but he had some questions to ask. He knew as well as anyone that Vegeta had once been a soldier in Frieza's army that killed mercilessly, but he was inclined to believe he wouldn't have ever committed genocide had it not been for the tyrant. He heard the prince's story as he neared death on Namek. It stirred in him a new respect and even admiration for him. He was by no means friendly, and seemed to take pleasure in his violence, but that was how he survived. How could he hold that against him?_

_ "Why, Vegeta?" he asked, his voice so small he could hardly hear himself. He wondered if he even said it aloud or if it was just a thought running through his mind._

_ Vegeta raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he considered the boy's question. It was obvious something was bothering him, but Gohan had no idea what it was. He just kept looking up at the full-blooded saiyan, pleading with him silently to answer the question. He wanted – no, needed – to know what would drive him to kill again. He wasn't under Frieza's rule anymore, he was free to make his own choices. Why would he choose to kill again? Especially when it was killing helpless civilians?_

_ Vegeta's tail flicked behind him as he turned his back on the boy, no longer able to meet his gaze. It was one of the few times he could remember ever backing down in a staring contest. He sighed and clenched his fists at his sides. "Because I could."_

_ Gohan's brows furrowed as he contemplated that answer. It wasn't very satisfactory. "Just because you could doesn't mean you should," he reasoned._

_ Vegeta snorted and turned again. "Should I not kill? Boy, I have the power to take life at will. If I want to kill, I kill. And last night, I wanted to kill."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "You ask a lot of questions," Vegeta spat as he crossed the room to take his leave. He was fed up with answering questions and listening to moralistic spiels. "If you must know, brat, I wanted to kill because I had to prove to myself and the rest of you fools that I will not be controlled. Not by you, your idiot circus clown father, the woman, or any earthling morals. I will live as I want to live, and if that means taking others' lives, so be it. And if it means I lose my grip on reality," he muttered, mostly to himself, "then I will live in madness. I always have."_

_ "Don't you even care?" Gohan yelled after him. He didn't really expect an answer._

_ Gohan watched the flame-haired saiyan leave and sighed. He was disappointed in Vegeta for choosing to kill, but he also felt pity for him. It was pity he refused to show because he knew Vegeta would have beaten him for it. But he pitied him for feeling as though that was the only way to assert his freedom. He knew he was being naïve, but he hoped with all his heart that Vegeta would change._

_Vegeta paused. "Do I care?" He scoffed and shook his head. "No, of course not," he mumbled. He couldn't understand why he wasn't entirely convinced that was true._

Vegeta found himself shaking his head as he tried to rid himself of the persistent memory. It kept coming back whenever he allowed his mind to wander from his training. With a growl he started furiously punching and kicking the air around him, desperate to clear his mind of everything, especially the haunting look in that brat's eyes.

"Hey, Vegeta," Bulma called from the door of the compound. His shoulders tensed and he did not turn to face her. "The gravity room is finished, a day early I might add. Why don't you come check it out and I'll show you how to use the controls?"

"That will not be necessary, Woman," he snapped. Still, he finally turned around and stalked toward her. He brushed past her as she moved out of his way to let him through the door and went directly to the gravity room. Bulma followed him, but he slammed the door shut in her face.

Vegeta reached the gravity console and looked over the various controls. They were essentially the same as they had been in the gravity chamber. He already knew the differences since he had closely examined the blueprints and helped make the necessary changes. He could hear the woman pounding on the door and yelling at him to let her in, but he ignored her. Figuring he should start out easy, he set the gravity for 250Gs and started training. It was more difficult than he would have liked since it had been a while since he trained under extreme gravity, but he quickly moved back up to the level he had been at before he ascended.

Bulma heard the machine start up inside and after a few minutes growled out her frustration as she stomped away from the door to the gravity room. He could be dead, flat on the floor with no one to help him, but she didn't care. If he was going to be a jerk then he could just die alone with his Kamiforsaken arrogance.

She decided not to let him get her down. Her mood had been great up until he shut her out of the gravity room, and damnit, she deserved to be happy! She had done at least a month's work in less than a week and she was tired and stressed. She deserved a day to herself and she was going to take it.

Bulma called her favorite spa, her hairdresser, and Yamcha. She was going to get a full body massage, a new haircut, and go on a romantic date with her boyfriend. And no one was going to stop her. Having set up the schedule for the day, she sat back on the couch in the living room and heaved a deep sigh to release the tension that had grown in her body the past few days. She rose from her seat and went upstairs to change her clothes before going out.

Half an hour later, she was standing in the driveway of the compound wearing khaki capris and a green blouse. She threw her capsule on the ground and climbed into the yellow hovercar. Pulling out of the driveway, she took off down the street toward the center of the city where she would be spoiled and doted over for the next three hours.

Meanwhile, Vegeta stayed busy training in the gravity room, not even emerging to eat. Mrs. Brief tried knocking on the door to get him to come out to have his lunch, but he ignored her. The blonde gave up eventually and put his food on the serving cart and pushed it to the door of the gravity room. After knocking on the door again she told him that his food was just outside and she left to go tend her gardens outside.

And so the day went, Vegeta training for hours on end as Bulma was pampered in the city. He was able to ignore his loneliness now that his mind was forced to concentrate on his training and she was able to ignore his absence because of being surrounded by people all afternoon and the anticipation of a great date with Yamcha that evening.

When Vegeta finally emerged from the gravity room that evening, he made his way to the kitchen despite the woman's presence there and sat down at the table to eat the dinner Mrs. Brief placed before him. Bulma was sitting at the table, dressed in a short black skirt and a deep purple blouse with a plunging neckline. When she saw him she turned away and continued her conversation with her mother.

"That's nice, sweetie, when is he coming to pick you up?" Mrs. Brief asked as she poured a glass of water for Vegeta.

Bulma answered, "He should be here soon. You know Yamcha, always a few minutes late. I think he thinks it makes me more excited to see him." She scoffed and rolled her eyes at the thought.

Mrs. Brief giggled at sat down next to her daughter. "Well, honey, you look absolutely beautiful! I bet his jaw will drop when he sees you." She winked at her daughter before asking, "Don't you think so, Mr. Vegeta?"

Vegeta didn't spare her a glance and didn't pause in his eating to answer. Bulma found that she was strangely disappointed that he didn't agree, even with a grunt. He completely ignored the question and never even looked in her direction. She didn't understand why he had been giving her the cold shoulder. Did emotional distance automatically go hand in hand with physical distance?

Shortly after, the doorbell rang and Bulma jumped up to answer it. She ran into the hall and opened the door as Yamcha stepped in, thrusting a small bouquet of flowers into her hand and grinning widely. "Hey, B, you look great!"

"Thanks, Yam," she said, blushing slightly, "Let me get a vase for these and then we can go." She went back to the kitchen and searched for a vase for her flowers.

Yamcha followed her in a minute later to see what the holdup was. Vegeta saw the weakling come in, but didn't even bother to acknowledge him. Bulma was put off by the silence in the kitchen, having expected some sort of confrontation between the two warriors as usually happened when they were in the same place. She glanced at Vegeta, but his tail was wrapped around his waist, preventing her from even getting a clue to what he was feeling.

Finally, she located the vase she had been searching for and plopped the flowers down into it and added some water before grabbing Yamcha's arm and leading him back out of the kitchen. "So I'm really excited about tonight, Yam…" her voice could be heard until the kitchen door and distance muffled it to unintelligible murmurs.

Vegeta finished his dinner and went back to the gravity room to train until it was time for bed. His hunger was sated and his body was craving more activity after being deprived of it for so long. A full-blooded saiyan's body needed plenty of physical activity to keep its metabolism and ki in balance. He turned the gravity up to 375Gs and resumed his intense training, guarding his thoughts against anything that would lead to the blue-haired woman.

Bulma, on the other hand, was having nothing but fun that night. She and Yamcha went to see a movie and then went to a club and danced the night away. When Bulma was finally too tired and intoxicated to stand, Yamcha took her home and she managed to get to her bedroom on wobbly legs with his help. He helped her take her clothes off and one thing led to another, and they soon found themselves both naked, in bed, and things were getting pretty heated.

Vegeta had just finished his training and was going back to his room for a shower before bed when he heard some muffled screams coming from the woman's room. Curious, he walked to the door and pressed his ear against it, sensing the weakling's and her ki fluctuating wildly. He was confused about what they might be doing until he heard the woman scream, "Oh my Kami, Yamcha, yes!" The passion in her voice was all he needed to hear to understand what was going on. They were mating.

He growled in repulsion and retreated to his room, tossing his shorts into the hamper before getting in the shower. The hot water soothed him and he spent much longer than he had planned letting it run over his tired muscles. When he found himself leaning against the wall with eyelids drooping, he forced himself to get out before he fell asleep standing up.

He quickly dried himself, shaking his head like a dog to rid his hair of excess water, and went into his room and pulled a pair of boxers on. He cringed when he heard the lovers next door screaming in the throes of passion through the wall. He curled up in his nest and tried to sleep, but when the screaming and moaning didn't cease, he lost patience and threw himself to his feet. Vegeta strode across the room and banged his fist against the wall and shouted, "Would you shut the fuck up?" When they quieted down he returned to his nest and pulled a pillow over his head.

When they heard the knocking on the wall and the screams following, Bulma and Yamcha blushed deeply in embarrassment and laughed nervously. He had killed the mood and they discovered it was hard to continue in their love making after having a tired, angry saiyan yell at them like they were teenagers in a cheap hotel with thin walls. Grumbling, Yamcha crawled off of Bulma and sat on the edge of the bed.

She crawled behind him and wrapped her legs and arms around him and kissed his neck. "Guess we got a little carried away, huh?"

Yamcha gave her a wry smile. "I wasn't complaining. Damn Vegeta and his terrible timing…"

"It's ok. You know since it's so late you can stay with me tonight." She raised her brows suggestively and pulled him back on the bed with her. "We can be quiet, right?" She pulled him into a kiss and soon they were finishing what they had started.

Vegeta was unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, threw the blankets off and then pulled them back over his body, but he could not stay comfortable for longer than a minute. After an hour of failed attempts to fall asleep, he dragged himself out of his nest and opened the balcony doors. The damp night air hugged his body as he stepped out on the balcony and looked up to the sky. As always it was dim orange. He frowned.

'Perhaps it is this city that is making me feel so trapped. Even outside there seems to be a ceiling over me, blocking my view of the universe I have traveled so freely in. This place has become a prison to me. Even if I were to leave the compound, where would I go? I would still be on this mudball since I destroyed the last spaceship capable of intergalactic travel.'

Vegeta hopped up onto the rail and walked its length a few times, tail waving behind him as it kept his balance. He was growing more agitated as the minutes passed, unable to shake off the feeling of being caged in. He was restless, his body demanding more than just exercise. He wanted his old freedom back. 'Freedom?' he asked himself in disbelief. 'Were you free when you were moving from planet to planet, purging them for the lizard's empire? You were a soldier, a _slave_. That was not freedom. And yet, you were not held down to one place, never staying anywhere for longer than a couple months. You have been here now for eight.'

A guttural sound of exasperation and hopelessness rumbled through his throat. "I do not want to stay here any longer! I want to leave this hellish mudball and … go where? I have nowhere else to go." He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Bile was rising in his throat as a mixture of many conflicting emotions flooded through him. "Why am I here? It was a fluke that I was resurrected and brought to this planet. I have bound myself on my honor to stay here and defeat the androids. But I hate it here. I am tied down, if not to a person, then to a place."

Vegeta sat down on the rail, his legs dangling over the edge. He looked again at the sky and growled in irritation when he could not see through the light pollution. "I was taken as a _pet_," he spat disgustedly, "removed from my home and put into captivity. Enslaved for the pleasure of a freakish creature who loved to abuse me whether I did good or bad. Now I am finally freed from my bondage but what good does it do me? I have no home and I never will. What kind of life can be lived without someplace to call your own?"

He howled his despair and held his face in his hands. Life was rapidly becoming unbearable for him. Frequently he wished it would just end to put him out of his misery. He wished the androids would come early and kill him in a surprise attack, or maybe a spar with the fool Kakarrot would go horribly wrong and he would die a somewhat honorable death. Hell, he could die by poison and he wouldn't much care anymore.

"I must be crazy, to be talking to myself," he laughed humorlessly. "But that's nothing new. Sanity is a luxury I have not been afforded for much of my life. Even now it comes and goes whimsically. Have I really been freed from the lizard? He still controls me, haunting me. I cannot change what he made me to be, a shadow of himself. He still laughs at me, taunts me from the grave when I hear his hideous voice in my head.

"This life is not worth living. I have become the joke of the universe. The almighty Prince of all Saiyans, prisoner on a backwater planet, attached to a foolish woman, a ghost of what could have been. My life is fragmented between reality and flashbacks and complete lapses in reasoning. What have I become? I am a miserable creature unfit to live." He sighed heavily and jumped to his feet and started pacing the railing again. His eyes turned mournfully at the sky one last time, hoping that he might be able to see just _one_ star, but there was nothing. "I hate my life," he grumbled as he laid down on his stomach on the rail.

Bulma had been lying in bed with Yamcha snuggled next to her when she heard Vegeta roaring outside. She gently pulled away from her boyfriend and slid her balcony door open a crack and crouched in the darkness to hear his soliloquy. Her heart shattered into a million pieces. Was his life really so horrible here? She was shocked by his deep self-loathing.

She shrugged into a silk robe and slid her door open wide enough to slip out to her balcony and shut it behind her. The warm, humid air pressed against her and made her breathing almost labored until she adjusted to it. She padded over to the side of the balcony closest to Vegeta's and leaned against the rail. She saw him lying face down and wondered if he was still awake.

"Why won't you just leave me alone, you foolish woman?" a tired, raspy voice drifted over to her.

She didn't know what to say, so she just whispered softly, "Vegeta…"

He growled and his tail twitched angrily behind him. "You invade my mind and you come into my space. You listen to me when you are not addressed and speak when I do not want to listen. You torment me, Woman, and I cannot even hurt you to make you stop."

"I just… I heard you out here and, well. Can I just talk to you, please?"

Vegeta exhaled slowly and ran his hand through his hair. His tail slowed its agitated flicking and settled into a more rhythmic twitch from side to side. "What is there to talk about?"

Bulma put her hands on her hips and snapped, "Oh, I don't know, the weather?" She saw him flinch at her tone and continued more gently, "Maybe the fact you think your life isn't worth living."

He raised his head so he could look at her before answering, "There is nothing to discuss." The emotions dancing through his eyes told her otherwise, so she decided not to relent.

"Would you please just come here and talk?" she whined, slapping her arms against her sides. She watched as he pushed himself into a handstand, his tail waving around for balance, before he performed a handspring that launched him across the gap between balconies and landed gracefully on the rail next to her.

He sat down, legs hanging over the edge. "If you have something to say then speak, Woman." His shoulders slouched a little and he refused to face her. His tail wrapped tightly around his waist and she felt that he had closed himself off to whatever she might say.

Bulma touched his shoulder gently but jerked it away when he growled and tensed at her touch. She frowned and threw one leg over the rail and straddled it so she could at least see his profile while she was speaking to him. She took a deep breath before starting. "For what it's worth, Vegeta, I think your life is worth living." She waited for a response but received none. "Because you still have so much to offer to not only this world but to the universe. You don't have to be like that Frieza monster. You can use your power for good."

Vegeta snorted. "Yes, Vegeta the Benevolent. What a great title."

Bulma scowled at him and punched his arm. "Would you just listen to me, you jerk? You don't have to go around paying everyone's parking tickets, but you could use your power to bring justice to the oppressed. Defeat the evil people others can't."

He turned to her angrily and snarled, "I'm one of the evil people."

She drew back from his harsh tone and stayed silent for a while. "I don't think you're evil. You're nothing like Frieza was. You could still become the man you were born to be. Would you really want to die without rising out of the ashes of the life you left back on Namek?"

Vegeta gazed at her steadily, onyx orbs sinking into her pure blue depths. He was stricken by her innocence, her purity. She was foolish to think he was something better than a monster. Yet when he looked into her eyes he felt her searching his soul and just maybe, bringing it life it had lost so many years ago. The placid oceans in her eyes were washing away the filth from his blackened soul he had cast away when he was enslaved.

His hand seemed to move on its own accord as it cupped her cheek and gently pulled her closer. She gasped when he rubbed his cheek against hers and tangled his fingers in her silky hair. His voice was rough when he asked, "What do you see in me, Woman?"

"I see so much potential, Vegeta. A bright, shining future in front of you. You have it in you to be a great man. You have so many talents you could use any number of them to make something of yourself aside from a powerful warrior. Your life could still take so many different directions and it's up to you to choose which path to follow." She smiled at him and stroked his feathery mane.

He pulled away from her and turned away again. "I don't know how," he murmured.

She was about to answer when the balcony door slid open and she whipped her head around to see Yamcha standing on the threshold. "B? What're you doing out here?"

"I was just…" she turned to look at Vegeta, but he was gone. She heard the soft click of his balcony door latching shut. "I was just thinking. I couldn't sleep and didn't want to disturb you with my tossing and turning."

Yamcha smiled and pulled her off the balcony rail into an embrace. He kissed her cheek and took her hands in his. "Why don't you come back to bed now?"

She nodded and followed him back inside and slid under the covers. She was more awake now than ever as she stared at the ceiling above her, deep in thought about her conversation with Vegeta. It was getting light outside when she finally drifted off to sleep.

In his room Vegeta cursed himself for dropping his guard with the little woman again. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to find it in himself to block her out or refuse her requests to "talk." It was maddening, being controlled that way. She held no power over him and yet he was bending to _her_ will instead of the other way around. Even worse, it had felt so right to join her on her balcony instead of fleeing from her presence as he had been doing for the past week. Something about her still drew him to her, and he hated it.

When she had come out to her balcony, he immediately felt her presence nearby; instead of recoiling from her as his mind screamed at him to do, he found that there was a deeper longing for her to reach out to him. To want him with her. And that is why he did not move from his place when he knew she was out there, no doubt wanting to see him. And that is why he complied to her request, though hesitantly. He felt as if his mind and body had been split in two, one side hating the woman and wanting to steer clear of her, the other wanting to indulge in her presence and seek her out and just _be_ with her. Then, in the middle of all his mental conflict, his body would lose patience and obey her requests as if he were a well-trained dog. Vegeta buried himself in his nest, grumbling about his own foolishness, but he didn't feel as angry with himself as he thought he would.

_A/N: It's like something keeps bringing these two together despite their mutual resolve to stay distant. Funny how that happens. _

_In case you're wondering about when this is going on in the three year timeline…  
__The story started in the middle of August. It's the first year after Trunks' warning about the androids. Yes, in this chapter Vegeta said he'd been on Earth for eight months. That's including the four months he was there before going into space to search for Goku. He clumps them all together because he isn't used to spending more than two months on any planet, period. So, by this chapter it's the end of August. I know time is moving slow in the story right now, but it's setting the foundation for Vegeta and Bulma's relationship, so bear with me._

_The next update might not come tomorrow. I'm going to be really busy and I'm not happy with the chapter yet. I need to rewrite/add more to it before it's satisfactory. I promise to get it up as soon as possible. I'm also a little surprised at the reactions to Vegeta's actions in the last chapter. Here's the deal: Yeah, he was insane. He seems not to have a conscience because he was raised not to have one. Regretting his actions would make him "weak." As you can see in this chapter, though, he's not entirely without remorse. He's just done a good job of convincing himself he doesn't care. Trust me, this was important in his character development. It won't be the last time he does things you won't like._

_Song: "Somewhere I Belong" by Linkin Park_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Write in on the walls and read it  
Until there are no secrets  
So safe and sound  
At least for now_

The faint dawn light streamed in through the balcony doors of Vegeta's room and roused him from his fitful sleep. He lay buried in his pillows blinking against the dim rays for a few minutes before he forced himself out of the warm comfort of his nest. He yawned with a low growling sound and stretched his arms above his head, his tail straightening in a stretch of its own before coiling around his waist.

After he changed into his training shorts and tied his shoes, he rubbed the last grains of sleep from his eyes and opened his bedroom door to go downstairs to the gravity room and start his training. As he left his room he could sense the faint ki of the weakling next to the woman's in her bedroom. He snarled as he descended the stairs and went down the hallway leading to the newest addition to the compound.

The door shut behind him, he stretched his muscles and set the gravity console to 100Gs for his warm up. He bounced around the room, punching and kicking at invisible enemies in blurs of motion. In his mind he was running through a training 'game' he played as a boy with a group of saibamen on Frieza's ship. It was simple, good for starting his training for the day. Ten minutes later, he was limbered up and ready to delve into his regular training regimen. He upped the gravity to 400Gs, the highest he could go without transforming, and began his kata.

Bulma pulled her pillow over her head and groaned in tired irritation when her alarm clock started blaring at her at 7:30AM. Unable to block the noise out enough to return to sleep, she slammed her hand down on it and glowered at the ceiling. She had only been asleep maybe two hours, but she was awake again. She growled in frustration and closed her eyes to try and get a little more sleep before her mother came to wake her up for breakfast. She snuggled closer to Yamcha and soon drifted off into a light doze.

At 8:30 on the dot Mrs. Brief knocked on her daughter's bedroom door and called her for breakfast. "Bulma, dear, are you up? Breakfast is ready! Could you come down and get Mr. Vegeta? He's working so hard in gravity chamber he won't even answer when I knock on the door, maybe he'll listen to you." When she heard Bulma's unintelligible mumbling on the other side of the door she was satisfied that she had been understood and ran back downstairs to serve breakfast to her husband while she waited for the others to come down.

A few minutes later Bulma sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned several times before she could drag herself to her feet and pull some sweatpants and a tank top on. She smacked Yamcha's ass before she went to eat, saying, "Get up, lazy. Mom's got breakfast ready for us." He barely acknowledged her but she knew his hunger would get him up soon enough.

Bulma slowly made her way downstairs and sighed when she remembered she was supposed to try and get Vegeta to come to breakfast. She shuffled down the hallway, almost falling asleep on her feet, and stopped in front of the gravity room. "Vegeta! Hey! It's time to come out and eat breakfast," she yelled, her voice still scratchy from sleep. She smacked the palm of her hand against the metal door a few times to make her point.

Vegeta heard the blue-haired woman yelling at him from outside the door but he tried to block her voice out. He was in the middle of his training and didn't care to be interrupted, even if a hot stack of blueberry pancakes _was_ waiting for him in the kitchen. He decided he would take a break when one of the bots managed to hit him with the ki ball that was ricocheting around the room. At the rate he was going, it might be a while.

"Hey you jerk, can you hear me? You didn't die in there, did you?" Bulma was exhausted and impatient and she didn't take kindly to being ignored when she was going out of her way to be nice to someone. And she felt it was an awfully big favor to get out of bed so early just to tell him to come eat breakfast.

She heard an angry snarl inside. "I heard you, Woman. You may go now."

Bulma huffed angrily and kicked the door, which only succeeded in hurting her foot. "Fine! Don't blame me if you starve!" She hobbled down the hall grumbling a colorful string of insults directed at the stubborn saiyan until she reached the kitchen.

Bulma's parents and Yamcha were already sitting at the table eating. They knew that waiting for Vegeta to join them might lead to them never getting any work done the whole morning, so it was the one meal where they would go ahead and eat in his absence. Bulma sat down next to Yamcha and forked three pancakes onto her plate and drowned them in syrup.

"Did you tell Mr. Vegeta to come eat?" Mrs. Brief asked as she poured her daughter a glass of milk. "He works so hard, he needs plenty of food to keep going!"

Bulma sneered. "His royal highness has decided to eat later. I don't know when."

"That's fine with me," Yamcha spoke up. "I wouldn't want to see him this early in the morning anyway." He stabbed a sausage patty with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth.

Dr. Brief lowered his paper to watch his daughter's reaction to her boyfriend's disdain for the saiyan, but said nothing. His moustache twitched when he saw her frown slightly and cut her sausage with more force than necessary, sending one half of it flying across the table. His paper raised again to cover his silent chuckle.

"But he's such a nice young man, and handsome too!" Mrs. Brief countered. She couldn't understand why those two boys couldn't seem to get along.

"Mother," Bulma snapped. "I don't want to hear about how great that jerk is right now."

Mrs. Brief smiled knowingly and exchanged a conspiratorial glance with her husband and turned back to eating in silence. Bulma missed the exchange as she had focused on her pancakes and _not_ thinking about Vegeta.

Before they were done eating the prince stalked into the kitchen, droplets of sweat gleaming on his chest and back as he crossed the room and sat in the only empty seat at the table, which happened to be next to Bulma. He lifted a tall pile of pancakes onto his plate and was about to start eating when he sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

He grimaced when he realized what the terrible smell was. "Woman, how do you expect me to eat when you reek of sex with that weakling?" he choked out.

Bulma turned beet red and hid her face behind her hand while Yamcha coughed fitfully after inhaling his orange juice. The elder Briefs raised their eyes to look at their daughter, not surprised by what the saiyan had said, but mildly disappointed nonetheless.

"Vegeta," she hissed, "Would you shut up?"

Sensing her embarrassment, the saiyan decided to make her a little more uncomfortable in front of her parents, who he had noticed giving her disapproving glances. "It's not enough for you to keep me awake with all your screaming, but now you make me lose my appetite with that disgusting stench."

Yamcha tried to hide behind the mountain of pancakes on the table when Dr. Brief gave him a very pointed look. He was almost as red as Bulma and wanted to sneak out as fast as possible. He cursed Vegeta silently for ruining his life yet again.

While he was making a big fuss about the smell of sex on the two lovers, it was in honest revulsion. It was fun to humiliate them in front of the woman's parents, but the scent was making it hard for him to breathe and he really had lost much of his interest in eating despite his stomach's demands. He had to get away from the smell and he knew they wouldn't leave before they were finished eating – the stubborn humans – so he piled more pancakes on his plate before picking it up and storming out of the kitchen.

Bulma watched him go with some relief since he wouldn't be able to make any more comments about her sex life with Yamcha. She returned to eating and the rest of the meal passed in awkward silence.

As he left the kitchen, the saiyan prince snickered to himself, quite pleased with himself for putting the blue-haired woman in a humiliating situation. She wheedled him into divulging more than he wanted the previous night. Why was it that she was able to get him to talk so much about things that he thought no other living being had the right to know about him? Had he really admitted not knowing how to better himself? That was a blow to his pride. He wasn't particularly mad at himself for allowing her to get to him again, but he was aggravated with her for trying to find out about him all the time. She was too nosy for her own good, always asking about his thoughts and past and bringing things up that he wanted to forget. If she was going to go digging out his secrets, it was his right to reveal one of hers. Not that he was sure how she managed to keep such a 'secret' with all the noise she made.

Vegeta carried his breakfast back to the gravity room and sat down on the floor to eat. It wasn't as much as his body needed, but it curbed his hunger and boosted his energy enough to be able to continue with his training. In actuality it was more than enough since his body was so accustomed to living off virtually nothing for weeks or months at a time when Frieza would decide to cut his rations as a form of punishment for some perceived failure or, more often, for the sake of cruelty. When he finished, Vegeta set the plate outside the gravity room and went back in to train until lunch. He turned the gravity up to 400Gs again and dropped to the floor for an hour of push-ups and sit-ups.

"I'm really sorry about that, Yamcha," Bulma said as she kissed him goodbye. They were standing in the hall by the front door and he was getting ready to go back to his apartment.

He smiled and hugged her close. "It's ok, B. It's not your fault he's an asshole."

Bulma nodded and waved to him as he went out the door and closed the door behind him. She sighed and rubbed her temples before going back upstairs to her room to take a shower. She was completely exhausted after getting hardly any sleep the night before, but she knew if she took a nap she would end up sleeping all day and throw her sleep schedule out of whack. It was going to be a long day involving lots of coffee. She wasn't looking forward to it.

She showered quickly and got dressed in jeans and a black tank top, not really caring what she looked like since she was going to spend the day in her lab working on one of the projects she had rediscovered after the failed burglary. As she went down the stairs she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and yawned. 'Maybe I should get some coffee before I go down to the lab. Otherwise I might fall asleep at my desk.'

Bulma walked into the kitchen and started some coffee. While she was waiting for it to brew she looked out the window and sighed wistfully when she saw the beautiful, sunny day. It was a shame she wouldn't be able to see it when she was working in her lab. She leaned against the counter and didn't even notice when the coffee was finished brewing as she lost herself in her thoughts. As hard as she tried not to she couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with the saiyan prince the night before. He didn't know how to become a better man, the man he was born to be. She wasn't sure who that man was, but she decided she would help him find out. Sure, she had only recently made up her mind to distance herself from the reclusive saiyan, but she knew that was a vow she would be hard pressed to keep. She was undeniably attracted to him in some way. Maybe it was the fact that he was so mysterious he kept drawing her to him. Maybe it was the fact that he undoubtedly _needed_ someone to be a friend to him and she was the only one willing to risk getting close to him. Whatever the reason, she couldn't leave him alone even if she thought at one time it would be the best thing for him. She liked him, so he would just have to learn to deal with it.

Bulma was jerked out of her thoughts when Mrs. Brief pranced into the kitchen carrying Vegeta's breakfast plate and started rambling in her sing-song voice, "Oh Bulma, dear, what are you doing in here? Has Yamcha left? He's such a handsome boy. Maybe not as handsome as Vegeta, I admit, but oh what am I saying? I'm a married woman!" Bulma looked at her tiredly and didn't even bother responding before she continued, "I'm thinking about stopping by the bakery after I go shopping for a dress for the Capsule Corporation banquet, is there anything you would like, honey?"

"No, Mom, that's ok," Bulma sighed. She remembered what she had come into the kitchen for and grabbed a large mug out of the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. "I'm going to work in the lab if you need me." She picked up her mug and slowly trudged to her lab, nearly stumbling down the stairs in her fatigue.

Bulma sat at her desk and flipped through the stack of blueprints to find the one she wanted to work on. It was a simple invention that would revolutionize the air conditioning system in Capsule Corp's line of hovercars. When she finally found it she grabbed her coffee and went to the work table with the parts for it piled on it and started assembling the new mechanism.

'Hopefully I'm awake enough to put this thing together right,' she thought. She yanked a piece of tubing out of the bottom of the pile, knocking over her coffee. The boiling hot liquid trickled to the edge of the table where she was leaning against it and scorched her legs.

"Ouch!" she screamed, jumping away from the table and the scalding beverage. "Damnit!" She grabbed a clean cloth from the table and patted the steaming coffee stain on her jeans, whimpering about the unfairness of it all. She cleaned up the spilled coffee and nearly cried when she realized there was no more in her mug and she was still dying for sleep.

Bulma sighed and picked up her mug and dragged herself up the stairs and back to the kitchen where she poured herself another cup of coffee. With cup of caffeine in hand, she went back down to her lab and, after placing the mug a safe distance from where she was working, starting piecing the air conditioning system together.

Vegeta looked at the clock on the gravity console and saw that it read 12:30PM. It was almost lunch time and his stomach was growling persistently considering it hadn't been properly filled that morning. He stopped his training and grabbed his towel from the floor and wiped the sweat from his face and neck before draping it over his shoulders. 'The blonde woman had better have the midday meal prepared,' he thought as he opened the door to the gravity room. He was irritated enough with having to stop his training to ingest proper nourishment and wanted to return to it as soon as possible.

As he approached the kitchen he could smell roast chicken and grilled fish. His mouth started to water even before he opened the door and went in to sit at the table. He grabbed a whole chicken and started tearing into it before Mrs. Brief realized he had come in.

"Oh, Mr. Vegeta! I didn't hear you come in. I'm just finishing the fish I know you like so much." Mrs. Brief started to babble about his healthy appetite and how wonderful it was to have someone who appreciated her cooking, but he tuned her out as he ate.

Three chickens and a pound of salmon later, Vegeta wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed his chair back from the table. He nodded curtly to the blonde woman in thanks, the most acknowledgement he would ever give her for her efforts, and left the kitchen to go back to the gravity room. On his way he bumped into the blue-haired woman but only grunted in response to her absent-minded greeting. He could tell from her posture that she was barely awake, but he told himself that it was not his problem and forced his concern out of his mind.

Back in the gravity room he turned the gravity console to 450Gs. When the simulator started up he could barely remain on his feet as his shaking body tried to adjust to the increase in weight. He barked out a short yell and ascended to super saiyan. Instantly the strain on his body was lifted and he moved about the gravity room with ease. He could have turned the gravity up higher to reach his limit, but for now he was just trying to gain control of his transformation before building up his strength in his ascended state. That was his training plan: in the morning, train in his base state to the edge of his limit and beyond and after lunch train as a super saiyan. That way he was increasing his strength from the ground up, which would produce the quickest increase in his overall power.

Bulma passed the surly saiyan as she made her way back to the kitchen for a coffee refill and a light lunch. She was vaguely aware of her mother babbling about how wonderful Vegeta was as she sat at the table and ate a turkey sandwich and sipped at her coffee. Progress on her project had gone slowly since she had to stop and backtrack once or twice after making a mistake in her sleep-deprived state. It frustrated her to no end but she refused to give up and take a nap.

"Have you asked Mr. Vegeta to attend the Capsule Corp banquet yet, honey?"

Bulma looked up at the questioning look on her mother's eternally joyful face and struggled to process the question in her sluggish mind. "Not yet, Mom. Remind me to ask him at dinner," she mumbled through a yawn.

"I know he'd be delighted to go with you," the blonde woman prattled on while her daughter only partly listened. "I don't know why you don't want to ask Yamcha to go too. Having two handsome young men, that would be so nice. Of course they don't always get along very well…"

Bulma yawned again and took another deep swig of her coffee. It wasn't waking her up as much as she wanted it to, but she was sure that if she kept drinking it, it would start to have some sort of positive effect.

"My you look awfully tired, dear. I suppose Yamcha kept you up late?" Bulma was shocked by her mother's question and averted her eyes as the blonde's eyebrow quirked.

"We got home late from our date, yeah."

Mrs. Brief giggled and turned back to the sink to finish washing the dishes. "That's not what I meant and you know it. It's ok, sweetie, you're a grown woman and you're allowed to make your own decisions. I just hope you give me grandbabies soon."

Bulma groaned and stood up from the table. She poured herself another cup of coffee and went back to her lab, eager to escape her mother's insinuations. She was glad that her mother had apparently gotten over any negative feelings about her and Yamcha, but she was _not_ going to discuss anything about sex or babies with her.

In her lab Bulma sat down at her desk and propped her feet up on it as she nursed her coffee. She was shaking from all the caffeine she had already drunk, but her eyes were still threatening to fall shut and she knew it would be difficult to stay awake the rest of the day. 'This is ridiculous,' she scolded herself. 'I got three hours of sleep and I'm acting like I haven't slept in days. In college I pulled all-nighters a couple times a week and never felt it. Granted that was fifteen years ago…' She sighed and took another gulp of coffee before getting back up and moving over to her work station.

She was digging through her tools, trying to find her needle nose pliers when she heard the door open followed by a soft thud and felt the air moving as someone approached her quickly from behind. There was a loud clanging of metal on the table next to her, which made her wince and grit her teeth, the sound ringing unpleasantly in her ears. It didn't help her throbbing head.

"What do you need, Vegeta?" she asked as she whirled around to face the saiyan prince. She gasped in mild surprise when she saw a blonde man with teal eyes standing in front of her. She put her hand over her heart, which had slightly quickened its pace as her slow mind worked to recognize who was in her lab with her.

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her reaction to his appearance and crossed his arms over his chest. "The training bots you provided were unable to bear the power of a super saiyan." He gestured with his head to the pile of what appeared to be scrap metal lying on the floor.

Bulma sighed and rubbed her temples with her index fingers. A massive headache was coming on and this was only making it worse. She knew the next thing that would come out of his mouth would be a demand for them to be replaced, so she didn't trouble herself with asking what she was supposed to do about his problem. "Fine. I'll build you some new ones as soon as I'm finished with what I'm working on." She waved her hand in dismissal and turned to finish what she was working on before the prince came in.

Vegeta stared at her back in surprise and cocked his head to the side. Had she really just given in to his unspoken command so easily? Lately she had gotten into the nasty habit of arguing with him and asserting herself as something above his servant, but all that seemed to have gone out the window sometime since he told her to build the gravity room. He thought that perhaps her obedience was a result of her tired state and again had to squash a feeling of concern for her health. His blue-green eyes examined her frail body, noting her slumped shoulders, her sloppy attire, and her drooping head. Vegeta stepped closer to her and took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. She looked at him in confusion but he wasn't paying attention as his eyes roamed over her pale visage, the dark bags under her eyes, and the redness of her eyes.

Unsure of the reason behind his intense scrutiny, Bulma tried to turn away but his hand was firm on her chin and wouldn't let her. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn and looked toward the ceiling as she impatiently waited for him to finish whatever it was he was doing. "What do you want, Vegeta?" she finally asked when he still said nothing.

He blinked and frowned at her. "You need to sleep, Woman."

Bulma's stomach flip-flopped when she realized he was actually concerned about her, disregarding the nagging thought that it was only because he wanted his training bots done soon. "I can't go to sleep, I need to finish building this and then make you new bots." He let go of her chin and crossed his arms again. Bulma felt like she was melting under the intensity of his gaze.

"You cannot work to your full ability if you are too tired to think," he told her. He saw the way her eyes brightened when he voiced his concern and he knew he needed to cover it with his usual callous attitude. He did not want her to know that he was a little concerned about her well-being; in fact, he didn't want to admit it to himself, let alone her.

Bulma's face fell a little and she shook her head, grabbing her coffee for another gulp of the rejuvenating nectar. She shrieked in surprise when he knocked it from her hand, sending it flying across the lab. "What did you do that for?" she shouted. It was all that kept her going.

Vegeta's golden tail wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to him. He leaned his forehead against hers and growled, "You will drink no more of that foul beverage today, Woman. You will go to bed and sleep long enough to be able to stay awake without it."

"Let me go, Vegeta. I don't need a nap," she argued, but a long yawn betrayed her.

Vegeta raised himself to his full height, which was only three inches taller than her, but his demeanor made him seem like he towered over her. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned on his heel and she thought he was going to leave without further debate, but she was nearly pulled off her feet when his tail failed to unwrap from her waist. He took two more steps before she realized he was going to pull her behind him the whole way to her room if need be.

Bulma stumbled awkwardly behind the saiyan as she tried to pull free of his tail's death grip, but it was impossible. She knew she had no chance of escaping so she sighed and allowed him to lead her out of her lab, down the hall, and upstairs to her bedroom. Vegeta marched her right to the side of her bed and lifted her with his tail and dropped her onto it. He threw the blankets over her and turned to leave when she got her voice back.

"I can't sleep during the day! What if I sleep too long and can't sleep tonight?" she asked angrily. There was no way she was willing to further mess up her sleep routine just because a stupid saiyan was trying to force her to take a nap when she just needed more coffee.

The tip of his tail flicked in irritation when he snapped back, "Set that horrible device to wake you up." His eyes shot to the alarm clock on her nightstand before he turned and strode out.

Bulma huffed indignantly and turned over onto her side and pulled the alarm clock to her. She set it to wake her up in an hour and put it back on the nightstand. Irritated as she was with the saiyan for pushing her around as if he owned her, she managed to fall asleep a few minutes after she laid her head on her pillow and closed her eyes.

By the time Vegeta started the gravity simulator to train more, he had felt her ki drop as her body gave in to its need for sleep. He smirked and began his series of kata. They were too easy at the current gravity setting and he had to remind himself that he was building his endurance in his ascended state for the time being. If he was unable to remain a super saiyan for longer than an hour, what use would it be to him if a battle were to go on for a long period of time? He ignored the boredom of such an easy training routine, determined to continue until dinner time.

_A/N: I know it's short and not the best, but there you have it. Chapter 16. Full of fluff. Maybe I should get a beta reader. That would make editing so much easier._

_Song: "Clockwork" by Autopilot Off_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_If I had to do this all a second time  
I won't complain or make a fuss  
When the angels sing that that unlikely blend  
Are those two funny friends  
That's us_

Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm clock was blaring its emotionless serenade to the sleeping woman. Bulma hit the button to turn it off and rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. The fading afternoon light was dancing across her ceiling as the sheer curtains of her balcony doors blew in the breeze. When had she opened them? She couldn't remember. She didn't care.

She closed her eyes and draped her arm over her forehead, laying still for a minute before she willed herself to push the covers off and get out of bed for the second time that day. Her nap had not been terribly refreshing, but she felt a little better than she had before. As she crossed her bedroom to the door she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of her vanity and stopped.

Her fingers touched the puffy bags under her eyes and she groaned in humiliation. 'No wonder Vegeta told me to sleep,' she thought. 'Have I looked this terrible all day? Ugh!' Her vanity cut down, she sighed and shrugged one shoulder. 'Guess it really doesn't matter anyway.' She walked out of her room and went downstairs and into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She would try to avoid leaning on coffee as a crutch to keep her awake, but her throat was parched. There was still some hot coffee in the pot, tempting her to indulge in its power, but she refused its offer with some regret. For some reason she wanted to respect Vegeta's command not to drink any more coffee that day, perhaps because he had been willing to show some concern for her.

Bulma downed her glass of water in a few long drags and set the glass in the sink. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she walked out of the kitchen to go back to her lab. Tired or not, she still had a mountain of work waiting for her and she was determined to stay on top of it. She realized that her mother was nowhere around and remembered her mentioning going shopping for a dress for the banquet. She groaned when she was reminded of the fact that she still needed to get a new dress too. It would break tradition for her to wear the same dress twice.

Forcing that train of thought off rail, Bulma opened the door to her lab and went down the stairs while the fluorescent lights flickered on, reflecting her mind's attempts to wake up fully. She went to her work table and tried to pick up where she left off, but her mind was clouded by thoughts of saiyans and dresses and she couldn't figure out what she was doing. Growling in frustration, she slammed her tools down and rubbed her forehead.

'This is all his fault. If he hadn't interrupted me I could have been done with this by now.' Bulma shook her head and leaned against the table. "No," she announced to her lab, "I am not going to blame him. I won't complain that he was doing something nice for me. I'll just work on a different thing for now." Mind made up, Bulma went to her desk and pulled out a blueprint at random and went to the table with the parts to the project and started working on it.

Vegeta was just turning the simulator back on after taking a break. It was purely coincidence that his break came exactly an hour after he had taken the blue-haired woman to bed, and there was no reason behind his going outside, flying up to her balcony, and checking up on her. He had simply wanted the fresh air and he noticed that her ki was still in its sleeping state and he wondered if she was going to wake up soon as she had wanted. It was merely curiosity, not genuine interest. At least, that was what he told himself as he started battle with another invisible opponent.

He was replaying one of his fiercest battles. It was with a great warrior from the planet he purged that was later renamed Planet Frieza 31. Not very original, but the conceited tyrant named all of his favorite planets after himself when he kept them as military bases. The planet had a handful of powerful warriors that managed to kill many of Frieza's soldiers. In desperation, he sent the saiyans to dispose of them, which they did, though they did not come out of their battles unscathed. Vegeta had been 17 years old at the time; he was cocky and sloppy in his fights since he had not had a worthy opponent in a long time once Frieza saw how his strength was growing from constant fighting and near-death experiences.

Vegeta found himself fighting that battle many times over in his training, always able to change something and learn from it to improve his skills. That was why it had become one of his favorite fights; it had been a challenge at the time that knocked the overconfidence out of him and reawakened a dying desire to grow and get stronger. The warrior he had fought was well disciplined, his technique nearly flawless, and he gave no quarters against the young saiyan. He had eventually lost to Vegeta's superior strength and endurance, but his battle had left a lasting impression on the younger fighter. Whether he intended to or not, he taught the saiyan many new techniques and motivated him to become better than he had ever thought possible and push himself beyond his limits to grow stronger despite being assigned mundane missions.

The saiyan kicked, punched, threw ki blasts at, and dodged, blocked, and countered the attacks of his ghost adversary. Sweat poured down his brow and the salty drops stung his eyes. He blinked it away, unwilling to raise a hand to wipe it from his eyes and leave himself vulnerable to attack. He grunted with the effort of executing precise, fluid movements in the high gravity. His chest heaved as he panted for air and yet he did not slow down his grueling pace or take a break. In his mind he was fighting a true battle, one where it was impossible to call a time out, take a breather, get a drink, eat a snack. His memory was better than a virtual reality simulator, which tricked his body into believing he really was battling for his life. The fight dragged on for hours and by the time Vegeta attained his victory, he was exhausted.

Returning to his present reality, Vegeta collapsed on the floor of the gravity room and gasped for air. His hair and eyes flickered from obsidian to gold and teal, his power draining quickly from the extended use of his super saiyan power. The overwhelming levels of ki flooding through his body were too straining for him to be able to hold his ascended state any longer. Sweat dripped from his chin to the floor and he dry heaved a few times as his body reacted to the severe conditions it was put under. He was famished, dehydrated, and physically and mentally exhausted. Finally, his power dropped and he reverted back to his base state and was instantly crushed against the floor.

"Fuck," he muttered, barely able to breathe. "The gravity is still at 450Gs." As his energy continued to plummet his vision started to blur and black out.

'No!' he thought, 'I will not be destroyed like this. There is no honor in dying in a training accident. I am going to turn this gravity off if it kills me.' Vegeta reached his hand in front of him and pulled himself forward a few inches. He groaned as his aching muscles protested his actions. By will alone, he reached out his other arm and pulled himself another few inches. He stopped and panted for air before continuing his desperate crawl across the cold floor.

It took him twenty minutes to reach the gravity console and he looked up at the control panel. While it was only three feet above him it might as well have been 300. He tried to raise his hand to push the button that would end his torture, but he could only get it an inch off the floor before it came crashing down. He rested for a few minutes until the aching in his body subsided somewhat. With a snarl he forced himself up until he was kneeling in front of the controls. He could see the button that would rescue him from his plight now, but he still had no way to reach it. The muscles in his back and abdomen were trembling with the effort of holding him upright and his legs were losing feeling fast.

'This is ridiculous!' his mind cried out. 'I am the Prince of all Saiyans, I will not be defeated because I cannot reach that fucking button.' Vegeta concentrated all of his strength and what remained of his ki into his arm as he slowly, shakily, lifted it higher and higher. Sweat poured from every pore of his body with the effort, but he finally managed to drop it onto the control panel in front of him. Just a few more inches and he could reach the button. It was taunting him in its closeness, laughing at his inability to hit it and save himself. With that thought Vegeta growled and slid his hand forward and finally slammed his finger down on the button. He could hear the simulator powering down and felt his lungs expand fully to take in much-needed oxygen as he fell to the floor unconscious.

Bulma laughed in delight as she held up the completed prototype for super saiyan-resistant training bots. It was perfect! The new alloy would be able to reflect powerful ki blasts, dodge attacks, and attack its target at up to 700Gs. Bulma was too excited to wait to tell Vegeta, so she took the bot and ran up the stairs and down the hall to the gravity room.

"Vegeta!" she yelled, banging on the door. "Vegeta, open the door right this minute! I know you can hear me. I have a new bot for you to test." She waited a minute, but there was no response from the saiyan. "Fine, I'll just use the emergency override to get in," she warned him. She still heard nothing, not even the gravity simulator, so she pulled the cover off the keypad next to the door and entered the override sequence. When she heard the door unlock she pushed it open and went in.

Bulma walked into the gravity room and looked around for the saiyan. He was nowhere in sight. 'That's strange,' she thought. 'He's always training this time of day. I know I heard the simulator a few minutes ago.' She walked further into the room and saw something on the red floor near the gravity console. It was brown and furry. Her eyes widened in alarm.

"Vegeta?" she shrieked, pushing back her panic, "Vegeta, what're you doing?" No answer. She ran to the console and saw the saiyan sprawled out on the floor behind it. He was passed out, but otherwise ok from the looks of it. He was breathing evenly and there was no blood anywhere. "Damnit, what did you do _this_ time?" she groused as she sat down next to him and pulled his head into her lap. She stroked his hair, damp with sweat, and sighed tiredly. She had seen him in this condition entirely too often for her liking.

The training bot forgotten, Bulma waited for the prince to regain consciousness. 'He's probably just exhausted. He pushes himself too hard for his own good. I know he wants to get stronger, but he takes it too far, the idiot.' Bulma's hand began to roam a little as she stroked his cheek and traced the line of his brow before moving up to follow the arch of his widow's peak. 'Everything about you is so harsh. Your attitude, your discipline, even your features.' Bulma smiled at that thought and brushed her thumb across his lips and over his chin.

Vegeta's eyes opened slowly, reluctantly, until he saw the blue-haired woman's face smiling above him. It fascinated him how when she smiled she seemed to brighten the darkness in his soul. It sent a warm sensation creeping through his lifeless heart and extinguished the low burning in his gut, his anger. Bulma didn't notice he had awakened as her fingers explored his jaw line. Suddenly a large, calloused hand was gripping hers and holding it away from his face.

Bulma gasped and her face flushed pink after being caught red-handed touching him in a way he didn't like. "Vegeta," she whispered as her eyes locked on his. They were back to their raven color. She was beginning to think they were beautiful – so impossibly dark, blacker than coal, yet full of life. They were the windows to his soul, often the only way she could read his feelings as emotions played through their ebony depths. "You're awake."

"Why are you here?" His tone was not hostile, but rather full of wonder as he tried to figure out the reason for her presence in the gravity room.

"I came to show you a new training bot, but that's not important. Are you ok?"

"Hn." Vegeta's eyes drifted closed again, his exhaustion overtaking every fiber of his being. A few seconds later he was asleep, dead to the world.

"Vegeta? Vegeta?" She felt his hand drop from hers and heard his breathing slow. "You cannot sleep in my lap, mister," she said, trying to sound firm while in reality she was melting inside.

Bulma sighed and carefully moved his head off her lap and laid down next to him. She wiggled her arm under his head and draped her other arm across his chest. Not long after she rested her head against his chest she felt something soft wrapping around her thigh. She smiled and closed her eyes. "I'm going to have to get you to bed somehow," she mumbled.

Bulma opened her eyes after what felt like a minute, but she knew she had dozed off when she wiped drool from her mouth. Vegeta wouldn't be happy about having her crusty saliva on his chest, but she didn't even think about that as she pulled away from him. A strong arm grabbed her and pulled her back and she knew the saiyan was awake.

"Vegeta?" she rasped.

"Do you always drool when you sleep, Woman?" Great. He'd noticed. Bulma blushed and laid her head back on his chest so he couldn't see.

"Do you always try to kill yourself when you train?" she snapped back. She heard his chuckling and felt his chest shaking slightly under her. Bulma smiled and stroked the solid muscles of his chest rippling under his skin, sticky with sweat.

His hand grabbed hers again and squeezed gently as a warning. He didn't want her touching him in such an intimate manner. "It is the only way to get stronger."

"That's not true. Goku doesn't almost die when he trains and he gets stronger."

Vegeta growled at the mention of his rival. "Yes," he sneered, "he gets stronger, but not as quickly as I do. He does not push himself as I do. He is too weak."

"Are you stronger than him now?"

Vegeta thought about that for a few minutes. He had gained strength in leaps and bounds because of recovering from serious injuries since the last time he sparred with the other saiyan. Yet he was still inexperienced in the ascended form, so he had not been able to increase his strength as a super saiyan. "In our base states, I am stronger," he concluded. "But the fool is still stronger than me as a super saiyan. That will change soon, though."

Bulma nodded in understanding and inhaled deeply. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of Vegeta's sweat, though it was not entirely unpleasant. The salty musk seemed to intoxicate her; it reminded her of the smell of a thunderstorm, of burning wood and ozone. It was so_ masculine_ but so _alien_. She had never really noticed its unique flavor before, but now she couldn't ignore it.

"I wonder if dinner is ready yet," she mumbled. Vegeta felt her lips brushing lightly against his chest and had to resist the urge to purr at the contact. His eyes widened when he came to his senses and realized how close the woman was to him, how close he had allowed her to be. Once again his mind split into two sides: one wanted to separate himself from her immediately, but the other wanted to stay with her and enjoy her companionship. He struggled with himself for several minutes, but his mind was ultimately made up for him when Bulma wrapped her arm around his waist and nuzzled into him. He couldn't find the power within himself to push her away. He wanted –needed – her to be with him, to take away his loneliness. Once he had taken a bite of the forbidden fruit of friendship, he could not go back. He had found a pack. And for once, the voices in his head were silent.

The tip of Vegeta's tail curled and tapped gently against Bulma's leg, which it was still tightly curled around. "It's funny," she said, seemingly out of the blue, "I would never do this with any of my other friends."

Vegeta smirked. "I am not like your other friends."

Bulma laughed and tightened her hold on him. "That's for sure." She wondered what made him so different aside from the obvious. He was an alien but still a male, yet she felt perfectly comfortable cuddling with him without any fear of it being seen as a sexually intimate gesture. She supposed it was because he didn't see it as such, so it was appropriate. Was that really so strange? Young human children would hug and sleep together and it was acceptable. Vegeta was just like a big child, new to this world, and she was his friend, guiding him.

"I think I'll take the night off from training," he announced tentatively. He was trying to convince himself he didn't care if she wanted to spend time with him or not, but the hope that she would was too great to suppress.

Bulma turned her head so she could see his face. "Why?"

His face twisted with a cross between irritation and embarrassment as he answered, "My body is in no condition to train further. I believe all my ribs are bruised and my muscles are too exhausted to gain anything by training."

"What happened in here, anyway?" she asked.

"I…" he stopped. He didn't want to tell her he couldn't handle the gravity he had set the console at. He could feel her blue eyes gazing at him expectantly. He swallowed and explained, "I remained in my ascended state for too long. My body was unable to tolerate the high level of ki for the extended period and reverted to my base state before I could turn the gravity down."

Bulma frowned at him. "You idiot, why didn't you stop before you got too exhausted to maintain super saiyan?"

Vegeta growled at the slight to his intelligence and power and she slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized she had crossed a line with him. He was sensitive to insults whether he showed it or not, and he had opened himself to her as he honestly related what happened instead of covering it with some bravado. She had no right to jab at him verbally when he made himself vulnerable like that.

"I mean, couldn't you feel your ki slipping before it happened?" She wanted to take back what she had said or apologize, but she knew he wouldn't want it. So, she pressed on trying to smooth over the offense.

The saiyan shrugged, the movement of his shoulder upsetting her head's position on his chest. "I was mentally detached from my body. I didn't notice how much strain it had endured until it was too late."

"Oh."

Vegeta gently pushed her off him and sat up, hissing at the pain in his ribs and aching muscles. He felt like acid was pumping through his veins and shards of glass were digging into his chest whenever he moved. It was not the greatest pain he had ever felt, but it wasn't comfortable by any stretch of the imagination.

He looked at the clock on the console. 6:02PM. The evening meal would be served soon. His stomach growled as if on cue and both he and the woman looked at it before chuckling lightly. "Dinner will be ready soon. I am going to shower now." Vegeta pushed himself up to his feet, holding back the groan of pain threatening to slip out of his throat. He stretched with a low growl and crossed the room.

Bulma watched him go, shaking her head as she thought about the strength it must have taken him just to get up and not show any pain. "I'll see you at dinner," she called to him as he disappeared around the corner. She heard a grunt and knew he heard her.

Vegeta could barely make it up the stairs to get to his room. His legs trembled each time he raised them to the next step and he clung to the banister to help pull himself up in case his legs gave out completely. Finally, he reached the top of the stairs and shuffled to his room. His muscles would barely let him bend over as he pulled his shorts off and climbed into the shower. The hot water cascaded down on him and he exhaled slowly as the tension in his body lessened considerably.

Though he wanted to spend hours in the hot, soothing water, he shut it off after ten minutes and dried himself with a flare of ki around his body. Anything to keep from having to raise his arms above his head or bend more than necessary. He shuffled back into his room and groaned as he pulled a t-shirt over his head and stepped into a pair of sweatpants. Once his task was completed, he gathered his strength and went back downstairs, trying to ignore the burning sensation exploding through his legs. 'Just remember how much more powerful you'll be because of this,' he told himself. 'Every ache will become new strength. It is worth it.' Even the saiyan prince needed a reminder of why he was willing to beat himself up sometimes.

Vegeta walked stiffly to the kitchen and collapsed in his chair across from the blue-haired woman. He was salivating as the aromas of the dinner fit for a king rose in the air as Mrs. Brief pulled the food out of the oven. Dr. Brief was sitting at the table already, talking to his daughter about an idea for a new invention of some sort and Mrs. Brief was chirping about how wonderful her roasts had turned out. It was a typical dinner at the Briefs'.

Mrs. Brief set the roast beef on the table and Dr. Brief carved it while she ran back and forth bringing bowls full of vegetables, potatoes, and gravy. Vegeta started helping himself when each new food was added to the assortment, digging into the food with his usual fervor. Only Bulma noticed that he kept his head lower than usual so as not to have to raise his arm far to get the food to his mouth. She smiled slightly and started serving herself once her mother sat down.

"So sweetie, have you asked Mr. Vegeta to the banquet yet?"

Bulma's eyebrows raised as she remembered that she was going to do that tonight. "Oh yeah. I almost forgot again," she said. She looked across the table at Vegeta, but he had only glanced up at her at the mention of his name, not bothering to stop his eating to say anything. "So Vegeta, will you come to the Capsule Corp banquet? It's being held here Saturday evening and we'd really like it if you'd come."

Vegeta swallowed a large piece of meat and actually paused in his eating to ask, "What is it?" Food was back in his mouth as soon as the last syllable was spoken.

"It's a fancy dinner where all the heads of the departments of Capsule Corp sit around and give boring speeches and talk about how great their department is and argue over what department is the most important. It's a lot of fun," she added sarcastically.

"Why would I want to go to _that_ social function?" She hadn't even seen him stop eating to ask that question. Impressive.

"To keep me company?" He didn't look convinced. "If you don't want to go then I'll just ask Yamcha to go with me. He hates banquets, but he'd go if I asked. Though his manners are abhorrent and he whines all night about how bored he is."

Vegeta smirked as he chewed another big chunk of meat. "I'll go, Woman."

Bulma was actually surprised that he agreed to go with her. Even before she asked she highly doubted that he would be interested, and she had done her best to honestly describe what it would be like: Capital 'B' Boring. Of course she _had_ dropped Yamcha's name, knowing he would get jealous for her attention, even if he wouldn't admit it. She felt a little guilty that she was happy he was going and she wouldn't have to ask Yamcha to be her date, even though he would be relieved she didn't want him to go. She just had to omit the part about Vegeta going.

"Oh, that's just wonderful, Mr. Vegeta! Bulma can take you shopping for a tuxedo and you'll be the most dashing man there! Oh, I'm so excited!" Mrs. Brief clapped her hands together and her smile was absolutely beaming with joy as she looked at their handsome house guest.

For once Bulma agreed with her mother. "Thanks, Vegeta," was all she could say.

He grunted as he stuffed a forkful of potatoes into his mouth, considering the conversation over. His tail flicked from side to side in mild curiosity about what he was getting himself into. Formal dinners were not new to him; he had attended many both as crown prince of Vegeta-sei and as a soldier and ambassador for Frieza. He smirked as he thought about what the woman had said about the weakling. Terrible manners? His were impeccable. Whining about being bored? He could find a way to entertain himself politely instead of complaining. The only thing he was uncertain about was this _tuxedo_ business. What in the world was that?

When Vegeta finished eating he remained sitting at the table, which surprised the elder Briefs, who had expected him to go back to his training as he usually did. He seemed to be waiting for something, but they didn't know what. His tail moved to his lap and twitched impatiently, but he gave no other sign of what he was feeling.

Bulma had some idea as to what he was expecting, but knew he didn't feel comfortable bringing it up, especially in front of her parents. So, she did the dirty work for him. "What are you doing tonight, 'Geta?"

His eyes darted to hers and his eyebrows raised slightly in acknowledgement of what she had done for him. "You tell me, Woman."

Dr. Brief's moustache twitched as he looked in curiosity to his daughter. He could tell that something was going on between them, even he wasn't that oblivious, but he couldn't place his finger on it. All he could gather from what had just been said was that Vegeta was, in fact, _not_ training after dinner and that he wanted Bulma to suggest something for him to do. Strange.

"I can't do anything with you tonight, I have a lot of work to do," Bulma told him, knowing he was expecting her to drop everything to spend time with him again. She did want to, it was just that she was a busy woman and sometimes work came before play. However, she caught the flash of dejection that shot through his eyes and she was overwhelmed with guilt. He was so sensitive it really astonished her. His exterior was so cold and tough, but inside he was quite fragile. She sighed and tried again. "How about I play _one_ game of chess with you and we'll go from there?"

"Very well," he told her, tension in his shoulders visibly releasing. "But expect to lose."

Bulma smirked. "We'll see about that." She finished eating and stood up from the table, excusing herself. She gestured for Vegeta to follow her as she left the kitchen. He pulled himself from his chair and, back more rigid than usual, went after her.

"Fascinating. What just happened?" Dr. Brief asked his wife when the door closed behind the saiyan. Mrs. Brief just shrugged and giggled.

Bulma went up the stairs to the recreation room slowly, trying to be casual about it so Vegeta wouldn't notice that she was doing it for his benefit. He was doing a very good job of concealing his discomfort, but his posture was stiffer than usual and she knew he was incredibly sore, and she knew that when she was sore it was hard to walk, let alone go up or down stairs.

Vegeta walked to the table near the balcony when they got to the rec. room and sat down while the woman got the chess box from the shelf. She came over and sat down across from him and laid the board out on the table. Vegeta grabbed the black king and started setting up the pieces on his side of the board. Bulma watched in amusement until Vegeta gave her a look that told her she had better keep her mouth shut about it. Why he would be bothered that she saw him doing that, she couldn't really tell, but guessed it might have something to do with not wanting to appear too eager to play a game with her.

His tail once again gave away some of what he was feeling as he played, but he seemed to be aware of her trying to read him and kept its movements to a minimum. Bulma was playing more cautiously than ever after seeing how quickly he took to the game. She was determined to not lose too terribly to him since she had abandoned any hope of beating him ever again. He was just too good at strategy. Even her brilliant mind could not keep up with him.

"Check." Bulma furrowed her brows and tapped her chin as she tried to find a way to rescue her king. He hadn't said checkmate, so there _had_ to be a way.

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her trying to figure a way out of his check. It was so blatantly obvious, yet she seemed blinded to it. All she had to do was move her bishop to block the path between her king and his rook. But she was too focused on her king, his rook, and her knight. Tunnel vision. He had seen it affecting even the most experienced warriors in the heat of battle. It was amusing to see it now in a simple game.

After several minutes, Bulma smacked her forehead and moved the bishop, thus stopping the threat to her king. Vegeta captured her bishop. "Checkmate."

She growled in frustration and made to move her king to capture his rook, but stopped when she saw that he had somehow sneaked a pawn into position so that she could not move her king forward. "Damnit, Vegeta," she grumbled and put the king back down. She rested her cheek on her palm and stared at the checkered board. "Fine, you win. I can't save my king."

The game had lasted nearly half an hour, though he probably could have ended it much sooner. But he had dragged it out, having fun picking off her pieces and wanting to play with her for as long as possible since she had told him they would only play one game. It was pathetic, really. Almost all of her pieces were gone from the board, but he had only lost half his pawns, a knight, and a bishop. She hadn't even gotten him into a check once. She sighed and started putting the pieces back in the box.

Vegeta's tail wrapped tightly around his waist as he opened his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He furrowed his brows and tried again, but remained silent. Bulma saw his struggle and knew what it was about. He didn't want her to leave him alone with nothing to do, but he didn't want to say as much. She checked the clock. It was only 7:30PM. Still plenty of time before bed, plenty of time to get work done. She just had to keep him from being bored as she worked. An idea hit her.

"Do you like to read?"

He stared at her for a minute and cocked his head. "It passes the time," he answered nonchalantly. In other words: Yes, he was a bookworm.

Bulma smiled. "Have you ever checked out our library?" She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't. "I'll show you, then you can pick out a book and sit in the lab with me while I work."

Vegeta scoffed. "What makes you think I would want to be in that dreary room with you all night?"

Arrogant bastard, too proud for his own good. Bulma shrugged. "Fine, don't, it doesn't really matter to me. I just thought you might want some company since you're not training."

"More like you want _my_ company," he countered.

She knew that he didn't want her to know he really did like the idea of being with her. And it was true that she wouldn't mind having him around if he wasn't causing trouble. So she raised her arms and slapped them against her sides. "Yeah, that's it, Vegeta. I want to have you around because I don't see you much anymore." He smirked. She rolled her eyes.

"Very well, if it will please you. I wouldn't want to hear your whining about being all alone the whole night." Bulma grinned when she stood from the table and returned the chess box to its shelf.

'Sure,' she thought. 'It has _nothing_ to do with wanting my company.' She shook her head slightly and turned around to face the prince again. "Well, I'll show you the library then."

Vegeta slowly, stiffly, rose from his chair and followed her back downstairs. He cursed the design of the compound, having so many different levels. Why couldn't it just be one huge building with one floor? He followed her down the hall that led to the indoor garden, but they kept walking past the double doors. He had never actually been down this way, and he realized how large and maze-like the compound really was. He reprimanded himself for being so careless; he had lived here for months without ever having fully explored his surroundings. Enemies could have lurked anywhere, he didn't know all the escape routes if he were under siege, he didn't know the best defensive positions to set up an ambush. He knew better than to think any of that would be necessary, but he was angry about slacking in what had become second nature to him because of his military background. It only gave further evidence of what he feared most: going soft. His agitation grew as they turned down another hallway filled with doors he had never checked behind.

Bulma stopped in front of a set of double doors that reminded him of the ones that led into the indoor garden, except these were a dark stained wood with brass doorknobs. They had a rustic look that was probably intended to fit the mood of what lay inside, he figured. Bulma pushed the doors open and flicked a light switch next to the door. Immediately a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room lit up along with lamps on tables placed throughout with brown leather chairs next to each one.

Vegeta walked in after her, tail flicking in curiosity as he looked around. The room was quite large, and it looked as though it was two stories high. There was a sort of balcony wrapping around the room with shelves full of books lining the walls. There was a spiral staircase that led up to the second floor of the room. More shelves extended from the back wall to the center of the room. There must have been hundreds, even thousands of books to choose from. He stared in wonder at the extensive collection of literature. He had seen larger libraries than this, but rarely in a private residence. It reminded him of the royal library in the palace on Vegeta-sei. So much knowledge for him to absorb…

"This is…" his voice trailed off as he looked around again. His eyes were wide and his mouth had gone slack. His tail twitched with excitement and awe. Instead of finishing his statement, Vegeta walked over to one of the shelves and read some of the titles. For some reason, there were many books with the same title with chronological numbers on them. "What are these?" he asked, pulling one out to examine it.

Bulma walked over to him to see what book he was holding. "Those are encyclopedias. They have a bunch of information about basically everything in the world. They come in sets because there's so many things in them. The numbers follow the alphabet. See, the one you have has information about things that begin with 'c.'"

Vegeta read a paragraph about comets. The information was short and concise, obviously written to say as much as possible with as few words as needed. "I will read this," he said as he tucked the heavy book under his arm.

"You sure? It's kind of boring to just read," she told him.

"Do not question me," he growled. Bulma shrugged and turned to leave.

"You coming with me to the lab?" she asked over her shoulder.

Vegeta glanced around the library again, almost wanting to stay there to see what all was available to him. But he reminded himself that he could come back anytime and get a new book when he finished what he was reading. He nodded and followed her out, turning the lights off before he closed the doors.

In Bulma's lab Vegeta hopped onto the counter and sat leaning against the wall and propped the encyclopedia open on his lap. Bulma shook her head in disbelief at how eager he was to get busy reading and picked the blueprint to the air conditioning system off her desk and went to work on it. She was still determined to finish it that day, and she still had a few hours to do it.

She heard the pages flipping as he read almost every minute, which seemed way too fast for him to actually be reading anything. Glancing over at him while she tinkered around she could see that his attention was fully on the book and his eyes moved quickly across the pages. It suddenly struck her how strange it was that an alien could read her language so easily. "Are you even reading, or just looking at the pictures?" she teased, fishing for the answer she really wanted.

Vegeta looked up at her. "I am not a child. Of course I am reading." He returned his eyes to the page he was on and proceeded to ignore the woman, thinking he had adequately answered her question.

One side of Bulma's mouth turned down when she realized she was going to have to ask in a more straightforward manner. She hoped he wouldn't take it as an insult to his intelligence. "How did you learn to read – and speak, for that matter – our language anyway?"

Without looking up, Vegeta tapped his left ear and mumbled, "Scouter."

"Oh. I guess that explains how Nappa and Raditz were able to speak the common language too." Bulma shrugged at the simplicity of it and picked up a coil of wire for her project.

Vegeta snorted. "Those idiots were hardly fluent. And they wouldn't have been able to read." He flipped another page and kept reading.

Bulma looked up at him again. "Why not?" She didn't mind the distraction from her work since she was actually learning about Vegeta and the other saiyans. Her curiosity about them was great and she would never turn down an opportunity to learn just a little more. As long as he was willing to talk, she was willing to listen.

"They only uploaded enough information to their tiny brains to be able to communicate with a planet's inhabitants. I, on the other hand, uploaded every bit of language as was available before landfall. Most would be overwhelmed by the amount of information." He turned the page again. Bulma was astonished. He was having a conversation with her while reading. She was good at multitasking, but those were two things she could never accomplish at the same time. One would always take precedence over the other in her attention.

"But not you."

"I was bred to perfection, I've told you that. My brain is capable of more information input than the civilized universe has to offer. Unlike other soldiers, I never erased the memory of the new languages I learned, so I am still fluent in over one hundred and I could converse in dozens more. It is no surprise that I understand yours well and can read it." As if to prove his point he turned the page again. He was flipping to the next by the time Bulma could think of anything more to say.

"That's amazing, Vegeta. I would love to take a look at your brain and see how it works," she said with a trace of amusement.

Vegeta's eyes shot up to hers and his tail wound tightly around his waist. He bared his teeth as he growled, "You will do no such thing, Woman." Subconsciously his hand moved up to trace a hairline scar on his temple that only he could ever see.

Bulma was taken aback by his sudden hostility. What had she said wrong? "Relax, Vegeta, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to." She pulled a stool to her work station and sat down, tired of standing and bending over it. She could feel his wary gaze on her for quite some time before she heard him turn another page.

An hour passed in silence as the two focused on their respective tasks. Bulma would occasionally look up at the saiyan prince and was shocked to see how quickly he was getting through the large book. He ignored the woman for the most part, he was so enraptured with the multitude of facts about the planet he was on. He would sometimes spare a glance at her when he heard a particularly loud clank or bang, but that was all.

Bulma broke the silence with loud grumbling about another mistake she had made. She shoved the metal object off the table and a resounding clank followed. "Fucking piece of junk, it won't just work!" She clenched her fists and stomped over to her desk and sat down in a huff.

Vegeta looked up from the page where he was reading about cults. "What is your problem, Woman?"

Bulma clenched her teeth and ran a hand through her hair. "That stupid A/C system! I can't get it to work right. I've been working on it all day and I thought it was finished but it's useless." Her voice rose and cracked with her frustration.

The saiyan set his book aside and hopped off the counter and walked over to the woman's work station. He picked the small device off the floor and turned it over in his hands as he examined it closely. After memorizing what he saw, he looked at the blueprint and checked to see if everything was as it should be. Then he started chuckling. "Woman, you merely crossed these wires and failed to properly connect the compressor." He tossed it to her and watched in amusement as her eyes widened when she saw that he was right and a wide grin broke across her face when she raced over to fix the problems. She turned it on and it worked perfectly.

"Vegeta, you are a flipping genius!"

"Nice to see someone finally recognizes it, though it is an understatement," he quipped as he returned to his spot on the counter and pulled the encyclopedia back onto his lap to finish reading.

Bulma giggled in giddy excitement and amusement at the trace of humor the saiyan showed her. His sense of humor was always buried deep inside and it was nice to catch a glimpse of it every now and then. "Cocky bastard," she muttered jokingly.

Vegeta gave her a toothy smirk. "Also true." He flipped another page. His tail flicked at his side playfully as he read.

"Are you going to keep reading all night? I'm done with my work, do you want to do something else?"

"Maybe when I've finished this." His tone was neutral, which made Bulma think that he really wasn't interested in doing anything with her at all. He was too absorbed in his book. She frowned at that thought and flipped her computer on to send an email to her father about the completion of the new A/C system for hovercars.

Vegeta finished reading about the former nation of Czechoslovakia and closed the encyclopedia. Bulma was sitting at her desk reading some document on her computer screen and looked like she was nodding off from boredom. He slid off the counter and went around behind her. He traced his fingers down the base of her neck lightly.

Bulma jumped at the tickle and whirled around to face the fiend who dared disturb her. "Vegeta! That tickles," she whined, drawing out the last word. He smirked at her and pushed her chair away from the desk and turned her computer off. "Excuse me," she snapped, "I was reading something very important." Her frown disappeared when his tail moved to her lips to silence her.

"Quiet, Woman. You said you were done with work for the night." He leaned against the desk and smirked at her.

"Oh fine," she conceded, "it wasn't interesting anyway."

He snorted and shook his head. "That was obvious. I could have sworn I saw you drooling again."

Bulma self-consciously wiped her mouth but didn't find anything out of the ordinary there. Her cheeks took on a pink tinge when she realized that he had been joking with her again. She looked at the clock hanging on the wall and saw that it was 10:10PM. She held back a yawn as her body realized how late it was and suddenly felt the need to shut down.

"I should probably go to bed soon," she told the saiyan. "It's getting late and I hardly slept last night. The naps I took this afternoon didn't help much."

Vegeta grunted and wrapped his tail loosely around his waist in its resting position. "Very well. You may to go to bed then."

"Why thank you, your majesty," she said, bowing in mock respect.

"Hn. You say that, forgetting I _am_ a prince." Bulma looked up and saw his indiscernible expression. She had only been kidding around, but to someone of royalty it probably wasn't funny. She couldn't forget what he was, but his status didn't mean much to her.

"Sorry, 'Geta," she said. He was not a fan of apologies, but she didn't know what else to say. She had mocked his status and he didn't take kindly to it. To him words meant little. If she wanted to let him know she meant no offense she had to show him, but that was easier said than done. She tried to think of a way to appease him as they walked up the stairs. At the top she turned and saw him several steps below her, his legs visibly trembling with the effort. Then she remembered how sore he was from what had happened in the gravity room earlier.

When he finally made it to the top of the stairs next to her, she motioned for him to follow her. "Here, come with me. I want to do something for you." He cocked his head at her but nodded his agreement.

Bulma took him down the hallway that led to the infirmary wing, but turned into a small room before she got there. He was now thoroughly confused since he had expected her to take him somewhere in that blasted sterile white hell. The room they entered was warm and dimly lit. The only piece of furniture was a strange padded table with a peculiar circular attachment at one end with a hole in the middle. In the corner there was a small counter with some bottles and a radio on it. Vegeta's tail wrapped tighter around his waist as he was unsure of what to expect.

"Ok, Vegeta," Bulma said as she laid a sheet on the table, "I need you to take your shirt and pants off and lie down on the table. You can cover yourself with the sheet."

"You need me to _what?_" he nearly shouted, incredulous.

Bulma giggled and patted his shoulder as she walked by on her way to the door. "Don't worry, you prude. I'll wait outside until you're covered, just call me when you're ready." Before he could protest she ran out and slammed the door behind her, leaving the confused prince behind. She could hear his grumbling through the door and laughed harder.

Vegeta didn't know what to do. The woman had explained nothing to him and now she wanted him to strip so she could do only Kami knew what. His original distrust was rearing its head as he looked from the door to the table and back again. He could sense her ki waiting outside the door, but he could detect no sign of malice. Sighing, he pulled his t-shirt off despite his muscles' protests and yanked his sweatpants down over his hips so they would just fall off and save him the trouble of bending over.

His tail wrapped very tightly around his waist as he laid down on his back on the table and pulled the sheet over himself. He was going to yell that he was ready before he had second thoughts about doing this. He still had no idea what was going on and it wasn't too late to throw his clothes back on and bolt out the door without her even knowing he was gone. He checked her ki again, but there was still no ill intent he could detect. Sighing, he said loudly so she could hear through the door, "You may come in, Woman."

A second later the door opened and the blue-haired woman stepped back into the room. She smiled at him, trying to put him at ease as she went to the corner with the counter and poured the contents of one of the bottles into her hand. "You're going to like this, I promise," she reassured him when she noticed his nervous agitation. "This doesn't smell too strong, does it?" she asked as an afterthought and handed him the bottle.

Vegeta took the proffered object and sniffed its contents. He handed it back to her and shook his head. "It is bearable," he told her. Bulma took it back, glad that she had chosen the oil with the least fragrance.

"Good," she said, and pulled the sheet down to expose his chest. She saw his alarmed expression and tried to comfort him. "Don't worry, Vegeta, this will feel good. I'm going to give you a massage." She could tell he didn't know what that was, so she decided he was just going to have to find out from experience. "Just relax."

Vegeta locked eyes with her and still couldn't find any desire to harm him. He nodded and tried to force the tension out of his aching muscles. Bulma took his right hand and pressed her thumb into his palm and moved it in a small circular motion. He was watching her as her tiny hands moved from his hand to his forearm, gently but firmly kneading his muscles, releasing his tension and soothing the aches his training had caused.

When Bulma finished massaging his arm she pressed her knuckle into the pressure point in his pectoralis major. Vegeta flinched at the pain and growled at her, but she did not let up on it. "I know it hurts, but this'll help you feel better," she told him firmly. He bared his teeth but didn't say anything and his growl decreased in volume. After waiting a couple minutes she resumed her more gentle ministrations across his chest before repeating the painful procedure on his left side. Vegeta clenched his teeth to avoid hissing in pain as he waited for the pain to dull until all he could feel was pressure.

Bulma continued down his left arm the same as she had done on his right, and when she had finished that she moved to his abdominal muscles. Vegeta flinched as she touched the most vulnerable part of his anatomy, but relaxed again when all he felt was her gentle touch rubbing the pain out of his muscles. His tail had loosened on his waist and fell to his side where it twitched apprehensively.

"Damn you're tense," she muttered, pulling the sheet back over his chest. She pulled it up to uncover his legs and started working on his left quadriceps. The soreness in his legs made even her most gentle touch feel like it was setting fire to his muscles and he blinked away tears that formed because of the unpleasant sensation. He winced and growled quietly but didn't stop her. Bulma moved down his leg after a few minutes, eventually ending up at his foot.

She pressed her knuckle into the arch of his foot and moved it up to the ball of his foot and down to his heel several times. That done, she went around the table and started up on his right quads and repeated the process until she was done with his foot. "Ok, turn over onto your stomach," she ordered and stood back to wait for him to move.

Vegeta grumbled as he flipped himself over, discovering the donut-shaped thing to be for him to rest his head on without losing his ability to breathe. He felt the woman massaging his calf and then his hamstrings before she switched sides and did the same to his other leg. Thus far he had been uneasy about letting her touch him but at the same time fascinated by her ability to make his soreness lessen. "This is the best part," she told him as she turned the sheet down from his back. "At least, it's my favorite part."

Bulma started at the base of his skull and worked down his neck and across his trapezius muscles. She thought she heard a soft moan as she firmly pushed her fingers into his flesh and smiled. Then, without warning, she dug her knuckle into another pressure point and she felt him tense up again. "Relax, Vegeta," she ordered. Slowly he did and she waited a minute before switching to the pressure point on his other side. He growled slightly and his tail twitched in irritation, thumping against her leg.

Again she lightly stroked over the pressure points and moved her hands down his back, massaging his tired muscles until he started to purr. Bulma grinned and used a little more pressure despite the cramps she was getting in her hands. From the corner of her eye she could see his tail slowly curling and uncurling and briefly hesitated since the last time she had seen that reaction from him he had freaked out and stopped what she was doing. But he made no such moves this time so she kept up the massage, listening to the low rumbling sound in amusement.

When she reached the base of his tail she worked gingerly, knowing how sensitive his tail was. She had come to the conclusion that there was a complex network of nerves just above his tail that she didn't want to irritate, so she quickly moved on to work on his glutei. She didn't let her hands linger there long since it seemed awkward even though it was only part of a full-body massage, nothing more.

"There, all done," she said and patted his back. "You're probably going to be really sore around your pressure points for a while, but if you drink plenty of fluids it'll go away soon." She watched him slowly push himself onto his knees, his hard muscles rippling under his skin. His movements seemed more natural now and the tip of his tail curled and flicked contentedly. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"Fine." He rolled his head around clockwise then counterclockwise. Bulma huffed slightly at the lack of praise for her hard work, but she couldn't really say she expected anything more from the saiyan.

"Well, ok. I'll leave you to get dressed then. You might want to stretch a little, by the way." After she left the room Vegeta stretched his arms and legs and pulled his pants and shirt on again. He was pleased that a great deal of his soreness had been relieved and he could move without any stiffness anymore. Still, his body was extremely tired and he didn't want to do any more moving around than he had to. Once dressed, he walked out of the room and found the woman standing in the hall waiting for him.

"It is late, Woman," he said calmly, "You should go to bed before your weak body falls asleep here." Once again, concern concealed behind callous reasoning. Typical.

Bulma nodded and hooked her arm through his. "Yeah, I'm going. But you should go too. I know you're not weak like me, but you're still exhausted, mister." She tugged on his arm until he allowed her to pull him down the hall toward the stairs.

"Hn. If it will make you leave me alone." He went with her upstairs and pushed her forward when she halted in front of his door with him. "Go to your own room."

Bulma took a step forward to regain her balance and turned to glare at him. "I'm going, you jerk, you don't have to push me. I just wanted to say goodnight. So goodnight." She stuck her nose in the air and turned on her heel to stomp off to her room.

Vegeta cocked his head as he watched her go, disappearing into his room when she turned to see him still standing there once she reached her own door. He took his shirt and pants off and pulled on a pair of boxers before crawling into his nest and nuzzling into his pillows. 'I don't know why I can't keep myself away from her,' he thought. 'I never needed anyone before but now I just about go crazy without seeing her.' He sighed and pulled the blankets over his head and tried to go to sleep.

Bulma put her pajamas on and slid under the covers of her bed. She stretched her fingers out and groaned softly at the pain in her hands. That massage had been hard on them. 'Damn saiyan, his muscles are like rocks, I had to use tons of pressure for him to even feel it.' She shook her head and turned on her side to set her alarm clock. Soon she was asleep, the night before catching up to her with a vengeance.

The saiyan tossed and turned for a while before finally giving up his quest for sleep and getting up from his nest. He slid his balcony door open and went out to perch on the rail as he had the night before. He looked out over the glowing city and repressed a sigh. 'Maybe things aren't so bad here,' he thought. 'If I could just get out of this city often enough, it won't be so bad.' He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall behind him. The muggy night air wrapped around him like a blanket and the gentle wind moving across his body lulled him to sleep.

_A/N: Yep, Vegeta and Bulma's relationship is worse than a roller coaster. Fun, right? I'm so excited. My absolute favorite section of the story is quickly approaching and I can't wait to start posting it. Just a couple more chapters first…_

_Also, I'm well aware of the fact that it is impossible for anyone to have a perfect memory plus being able to learn everything...blah, blah. Well, it's impossible for humans, anyway. But saiyans? Sue me, I'm a psych major that likes to make my non-human character superhumanly smart and stuff because, frankly, I think it's cool. And I'm hoping I got the massage thing right. It's been a long time since I got one (it is certainly a privilege having a sister who's a massage therapist)._

_I really hope you're all enjoying reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd like again to thank all my reviewers and encourage everyone to leave a review. Everyone! Because a happy writer is more likely to churn out more writing…and what makes a writer happy? Reviews._

_Song: "My Funny Friend and Me" by Sting_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Well you know that it's going to be alright  
I think it's gonna be alright  
Everything will always be alright  
When we go shopping_

The first light of dawn accompanied by the chirping of birds in the trees woke the sleeping prince. His eyes snapped open as his mind raced to remember where he was. The balcony. He had fallen asleep out on the balcony. His heart slowed its pace as he remembered and he stretched his arms over his head and yawned, letting a low growl escape his chest. He winced slightly as his pectoral muscles burned, but he grunted in mild fascination as the rest of his body felt limber and free of soreness.

'Whatever that woman did seems to have helped,' he admitted only to himself. He jumped from the rail and walked into his room to change into his training shorts and put his shoes on. He grabbed a towel from his bathroom and went downstairs to the gravity room to begin his morning training. It passed essentially the same as always; he stretched, did a ten minute warm up, and started his kata.

He was surprised at how much stronger he was since the previous morning. He turned the gravity up to 425Gs shortly after he started his more intense exercises. He was punching the air with all he was worth when he heard a knocking on the door. 'Who would bother me at this time of day?' he wondered. He sensed for the ki he knew would be there and discovered it was the blue-haired woman. 'Strange, she's never up this early. It's only 6:30.' Curious, he turned the simulator off and opened the door.

"What do you want?" he barked when she came into view.

Bulma smiled at him. "Good morning to you too, Grumpy. Have you forgotten that you promised to go on morning jogs with me? I let you off the hook for long enough, now let's go."

Vegeta glared at her for a minute. What in the world was she talking about? His eyes roamed over her body as he tried to remember this supposed promise. She was wearing running shoes, white shorts, and a royal blue tank top. Her hair was in a ponytail and there were white sweatbands on her wrists. She appeared to be serious about this. That was when he finally came up with the memory of laying in the wet grass in front of the compound with her and she asked him to go on jogs with her to get her into shape and he had agreed to build his endurance sans ki.

"Fine, if you think you can keep up." Vegeta shut the gravity room door behind him as he followed the woman through the compound and out the front door. She stopped in the yard to stretch for a few minutes as he waited impatiently. "Couldn't you have done his before you interrupted my training?" he snarled after he had run out of patience.

"Sorry, Vegeta, I barely managed to drag myself out of bed for this. I wasn't really thinking about stretching at the time. It's been a while since I jogged regularly." Bulma raised herself from the ground and started toward the gate with the irate saiyan close behind.

Bulma and Vegeta went out the front gate and walked half a block before starting to jog. Vegeta allowed the woman to set the leisurely pace and tried to hold himself back to stay by her side. They had only gone three blocks when he noticed her breathing getting heavy and she slowed slightly. He looked over at her and saw that she was sweating profusely and panting for air, but she had a look of determination on her face so he didn't say anything. He smirked at her stubborn drive as she forced herself to keep going even though her lungs were burning for air.

Vegeta suppressed his ki as low as it would go so he could not draw on it to keep his body from tiring as he jogged. Still, he wasn't even breaking a sweat and his muscles were itching to speed up and just _go_. After five blocks Bulma was lagging behind as he maintained the same pace, but she wasn't ready to stop just yet.

"Vegeta…wait…up," she panted as she tried to catch up to the saiyan. He looked over his shoulder but wouldn't slow down for her. He had warned her at the outset that he wouldn't. This was expressed in the irritated scowl he gave her and she knew she was going to be returning home alone soon.

"Hurry up, Woman," he said just loud enough for her to hear. She groaned and forced her legs to carry her a little faster. When she was finally at his side again, he told her, "This is pathetic, you haven't even gone a full mile yet. I thought you said you were in shape?"

Bulma glowered at him, unable to waste her precious oxygen on a biting remark. When another man out for a morning jog passed by Bulma tried to quiet her breathing and act casual, as if she wasn't dying while the jerk next to her might as well have been sleeping as effortless as he made the exercise seem.

Vegeta chuckled at her bravado and turned to tell her, "You could die any second from lack of oxygen and yet you still have to look good for other humans. You're ridiculous." His tone was full of amusement, so she couldn't even be mad at him. He was teasing her.

"Yeah, well…" she started, but couldn't finish as her lungs angrily tried to suck in more air than was apparently available.

He rolled his eyes at her. "You should stop before you pass out, Woman. You didn't expect to be able to keep up with me, did you?"

She glared at him and slowed down again, her body giving in to his suggestion before her mind was willing to. "Fine… I'll see you… later." She stopped and hunched over, hands on her knees as she gasped for air. She was embarrassed, to say the least. She had made it six blocks. Two more would have been a mile, but she just couldn't do it. It had been way too long since she had given up jogging. Vegeta grunted and continued on without her.

'He'll probably be gone all day if he decides to run until he's tired. Jerk. Why does he have to be so… so… inhuman!' Bulma finally caught her breath enough to stand straight and turn around to walk home. Two more joggers passed her by, waving a friendly greeting, as she walked back the way she and Vegeta had come. 'At least I got to see him for a few minutes, even if we weren't talking. I _am _going to keep doing this, and I _am_ going to get so I can keep up.'

It was after 7:00 when Bulma walked in the front door of Capsule Corp. She could hear pans clattering in the kitchen and she knew her mother was up to start making enough breakfast to feed an army. Or at least a saiyan. Bulma decided to visit her before going upstairs for a shower and get dressed for the day.

"Morning, Mom. What're you making for breakfast?" Bulma asked as she hugged her mother and pecked her on the cheek.

"Oh good morning, sweetie! You're sure up early today. I thought I would make some French toast, you know how much Mr. Vegeta likes it. He's just so dedicated to his training, I like to make his favorites for him."

Bulma snorted. "Yeah, I know. I went on a jog with him and couldn't keep up. He's still out somewhere, I don't know when he'll come back. But I'm beat. I need a shower."

"That's nice dear," Mrs. Brief said absently as she started mixing the batter for the French toast. Bulma nodded and walked out of the kitchen to go back up to her room. She reminded herself that she should stretch again so she wouldn't get overly sore. She didn't need to end up like Vegeta was last night.

Vegeta kept track of the woman's ki while he continued on, just to make sure she got back to the compound without collapsing. The last thing he wanted was to have to listen to her screaming about abandoning her and leaving her to die because she was too weak to make it back on her own. After he left her behind he sped up to a run, easily overtaking anyone who was jogging or running in the same direction as him. They greeted him as a fellow morning jogger but he hardly acknowledged them.

He didn't exactly know where to go. The woman didn't seem to have any particular path she was following, so he didn't think that she had any destination in mind when she set out with him. Not that it mattered if she wasn't there. So, he just ran around, turning corners when he felt like it and backtracking when he didn't like where he was going. His mind was working to memorize his surroundings, logging the information away for later use if necessary, but his body was unusually calm, seemingly satisfied just to be moving without being pushed too hard.

The light in the gray sky was growing brighter as the sun rose higher on the horizon and with it the temperature. The morning dew was evaporating and the number of people jogging decreased, returning home to shower and get ready for work. But Vegeta was not paying attention to any of these details, he was simply enjoying his running. He had gone several miles, finding himself near the center of the city where the buildings grew taller and the streets filled with cars as the early risers rushed to open the doors to their businesses. Whenever a streetlight would give him the "Do Not Walk" light he would jump into the air and use the cars in the intersection as stepping stones to get to the other side. He ignored the surprised and angry shouts of the drivers and just kept going.

Mrs. Brief was almost finished preparing breakfast when Bulma came back down to the kitchen. "Has Vegeta come back yet?" she asked when she pulled the plates out of the cupboard to set the table for her mother.

"I haven't seen him yet, honey," Mrs. Brief replied, her bright smile dimming just slightly for a second before she started beaming again. "You know how hard he works, though. I'm sure he'll be back for breakfast." She filled a platter with scrambled eggs and set it on the table next to another platter of bacon. "Could you get the orange juice out, Bulma dear?"

Bulma opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice. She was amazed at how much her mother did every morning. Mrs. Brief acted like a complete ditz, but when it came to housework she was a genius. Without her, their household would fall apart.

Vegeta ran past a crowd of people at a bus stop and overheard one complaining about how late the public transportation always was. The bus was supposed to arrive at 8:15 and it was already almost 8:30! He was going to be late to his new job, and that didn't sit well with him. Vegeta ignored the man's plight, but the announcement of the time did interest him. It was almost time for breakfast back at the compound. He looked around to see if anyone was watching before he turned up the speed to run back to Capsule Corp. A passerby might have seen a blur of motion if they had been looking close enough, but all anyone really noticed was a gust of wind if they were standing close enough to where Vegeta ran by.

Ten minutes later, the Briefs were sitting down at the table covered in a mountain of French toast, bacon, and eggs. As soon as they started helping themselves to the delicious meal, they heard the front door open and the soft footsteps of the hungry saiyan. A few seconds later the kitchen door opened and he strode in and sat at the table. Bulma was pleased to see that he was at least sweating now, and maybe even breathing slightly harder than normal. If she could hear his heartbeat she would know that he had really exerted himself to get there on time for a hot meal since he still hadn't used his ki.

"Well, look who came back," Bulma teased. "Did you have a good run without little ol' me slowing you down?" She handed him the platter of bacon and watched as he scraped all that was left of it onto his plate. Luckily everyone else had already taken what they wanted.

"Hn."

"That's good. I hope it was beneficial to your training in some way," she replied as if he had actually said something.

"Hn." Vegeta was piling French toast onto his plate and soaked it in syrup before stuffing it into his mouth, one whole slice at a time. If he hadn't been so clean about it, it might have been disgusting to watch.

Dr. Brief sat quietly reading his morning newspaper, occasionally sneaking a bite of food around its pages while Mrs. Brief flipped through a gardening catalogue. Bulma saw that she wasn't going to get any kind of conversation from them this morning, and it was useless to try talking to Vegeta, even if she made up his replies for him in her head. It was just a way of talking to herself and she felt silly for doing it.

Bulma resigned herself to a quiet meal and sighed before taking a bite of scrambled eggs. The only sounds to be heard were the clinking of silverware against plates, glasses of orange juice being set on the table, the flipping of pages of newspaper and magazine, and the crunching of bacon as it was bitten into. Boring. She was more awake than usual since she had been up for a little over two hours, so the silence was annoying to her for a change.

"So when do you want to go shopping for a tux, Vegeta?" she asked when the silence was unendurable any longer. He looked up at her from his plate and raised his eyebrow at her before stuffing more bacon into his mouth. "Remember, you need one for the Capsule Corp banquet. It's only two days away."

Vegeta swallowed and grunted and forked another slice of French toast. "Why do I need one?" He put the toast in his mouth.

"Well, since it's a formal event you need formalwear, that's what a tuxedo is: A formal suit for men," she explained. She sipped her orange juice as she waited for his reply. It was slow in coming since he was still mostly focused on eating.

"Whenever."

She wasn't sure she had even heard him answer since he was chewing again and didn't give her any sign that he had spoken. Yet, his voice was unmistakable and she knew that he had said what she thought he had. Was he really willing to put his training off to go shopping with her? That came as quite a surprise. "After lunch?"

She saw him shrug and took that as a yes. Satisfied, she decided to stop asking him questions so that he could eat in peace. Grating on his nerves this early in the day was not a good idea because he would be irate for the rest of the day. She didn't feel like going shopping with someone who was going to grumble and complain and give the salespeople a hard time with his foul attitude. She chuckled when she thought about someone measuring his inseam. That would be a sight to see. Maybe she should take a camera.

Vegeta finished eating and went back to the gravity room. He had already missed out on two hours of training and he was going to miss more that afternoon. The things he did to pacify the woman were starting to add up. She was becoming a distraction from his training and he wasn't happy about it. If this kept up he would have to leave the compound for a while just to be able to train without her constant interruptions.

He turned the gravity console up to 425Gs again and powered up enough to be able to move relatively easily. He went through all of his kata before starting an hour of lunges and squats. Then he would spent the rest of his time before lunch battling with an old adversary from the past, and if time allowed, his dodging game with the training bots Bulma gave him.

Meanwhile, Bulma had gone to her lab and was working on another one of her projects that had been on hiatus for only Kami knew how long. She chose one at random since she wasn't really in the mood for building, but she needed something to pass the time while she waited for lunch. So she ended up building an air filter of a remarkably small size designed for incredibly large areas. It would be extremely useful in factories where the air was often contaminated.

So the morning passed uneventfully for everyone in the Briefs household. Dr. Brief was at the office at the headquarters building and Mrs. Brief spent all morning preparing lunch for the saiyan houseguest. At 12:30 Bulma went into the kitchen and sat at the table as her mother was finishing setting the food out. Every day looked and smelled like Thanksgiving for every meal, and yet they hardly, if ever, had any leftovers. If they hadn't been so rich they would have gone broke a month after Vegeta arrived trying to pay for enough food for his superhuman metabolism.

"There you are, Bulma dear. Have you seen Mr. Vegeta? He's usually not late to lunch," Mrs. Brief said as she placed a giant bowl of Chinese dumplings on the table. It looked like international food day at a cafeteria: there was ravioli, dumplings, roast turkey, sushi, and chicken enchiladas. Mrs. Brief had recently gotten in a cooking-new-kinds-of-food kick, and the results were both interesting and delicious.

"I don't know where he is. Probably in the gravity room, but I'm sure he'll be here soon." Bulma poured herself a glass of lemonade and started serving herself a little bit of everything just to sample it. Mrs. Brief smiled brightly and sat down next to her daughter to wait for the handsome young man.

A few minutes later he walked into the kitchen, sweat trickling down his body, and he sat in his usual place at the table and started piling food onto his plate. His training had gone very well that morning and he was starting to wish he had not agreed to go shopping after lunch. He wanted to get back to the gravity room and train as a super saiyan again. He was more determined than ever to build his endurance and be able to stay ascended for hours on end. And from the way things were going, he was feeling pretty confident about his abilities.

Once Vegeta started eating Mrs. Brief served herself and began eating, happily chatting away about handsome men, pretty dresses, and new flowers for her garden. Bulma only half listened since she had heard the same thing a million times over, but she wanted to humor her mother. At least she didn't have to sit through another quiet meal.

"Are you going to get a new dress while you're out today, honey?"

The silence that followed alerted Bulma to the fact that she had been addressed. "Um, yeah, Mom." She had no idea what she had just said yes to, but figured it wasn't too important.

"Oh that's just wonderful," Mrs. Brief clapped her hands together and grinned at her daughter. "Maybe you should do that first so you can match Mr. Vegeta's tux to it."

Bulma nodded, still having no clue what they were talking about. She even went so far as to look to Vegeta for help in figuring it out, but unsurprisingly he was no help. He had been paying even less attention than she had and looked like he had no interest in getting involved in the conversation even if he had been listening. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her plate.

Mrs. Brief continued her prattle through the rest of the meal despite her inattentive audience. She either didn't notice or didn't mind that she was basically talking to herself. Bulma finished eating and waited for Vegeta. He seemed to be purposely taking his time, showing his reluctance to go shopping. The experience at the mall was still fresh to him and he was hoping he would not have to go to that hell again.

Bulma tapped the table with her fingers impatiently. "Vegeta, hurry up, I want to leave sometime this century."

He looked up at her and snarled before returning to his eating. His hostility sent a shiver down Bulma's spine; it reminded her that he was not like her guy friends who she could yell at and boss around and they would listen to her at the drop of a hat. He could not be pushed to do anything he didn't really want to do, and apparently he didn't want to eat any faster than he was. She couldn't see his tail flicking in irritation, but she could hear it thumping against his chair.

"Alright, fine, take your time. Whatever. I'm going to go wait in the living room, so you can come get me when you're ready to go." She pushed her chair back from the table and left the kitchen hastily. She didn't want the saiyan to see that he had scared her again. Vegeta's eyes followed her out the door before he resumed his eating. He was getting full but didn't stop eating for the sake of being able to stay at the compound just a little bit longer.

Bulma sat in one of the recliners by the window and flipped the TV on. There probably wasn't anything interesting on, but at least it would take her mind off the task ahead. Now that she had seen Vegeta's mood she wasn't sure she wanted to go through with dragging him out into the city. But she knew she had to get it over with and if he was willing, however grudgingly, she wouldn't waste her opportunity.

She was watching the news when Vegeta came and stood in the doorway. Had she not smelled him she might not have noticed him for quite a while since he made no sound. Wait, she could smell him from across the room?

"Vegeta, you stink. Take a shower before we go and put some nicer clothes on," she said without even looking in his direction. She heard him growl, but soon there was the soft thumping of his feet on the stairs as he went up to his room. 'He's like a little kid,' she said to herself, not for the first time.

Half an hour later he came back donning a pair of jeans and a navy blue polo shirt. His tail was flicking behind him as he scowled at the blue-haired woman who was still sitting in the recliner watching TV. "Well? Are we going?" he growled.

Bulma looked up at him and saw that he was cleaned up and still not happy. She sighed and flipped the TV off. "Yeah, let's go. I want to get this over with as bad as you do." Grabbing her purse, she led him to the front door and went out to the driveway. She threw a capsule on the ground and got into the driver's side of a blue convertible. Vegeta got in on the other side and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We're not going to that mall again, are we?" he asked with some trepidation in his voice. So that was what he was all uptight about!

Bulma smiled when she realized why his mood was so sour. "No, I'm not going to take you back there for a good, long time. We usually get our formal clothes from a small shop downtown. It's the best you can get and they do fittings for free. And we're basically their favorite customers so we get the royal treatment."

She could see him visibly relax as his tail loosened its hold on his waist and his face slackened to its neutral expression. He didn't need to say anything for Bulma to know that he was relieved.

Bulma stopped in front of a small store and they got out of the car before she capsulated it. Seeing his hesitation, Bulma hooked her arm through Vegeta's as she had done whenever she was trying to get him to go somewhere he didn't really want to go and pulled him into the store.

"Oh my Kami, is that the beautiful Miss Brief?" a man cried when he saw the blue-haired woman walk in the door.

Bulma grinned and held her free hand out to the manager of the store. "Hello, Enrique. I need you to find a tuxedo for my friend, Vegeta. And I would like to look for a dress for the Capsule Corp banquet on Saturday."

The man took her hand in his and kissed it. "But of course, señorita. Anything for you." He turned his eyes to Vegeta and appraised him for a moment before he dashed off to a corner of the store where they measured clients.

Bulma yanked Vegeta's elbow when he refused to follow. "Come _on_, Vegeta," she grumbled when he didn't budge an inch, "He needs to take your measurements so he can find the best tux for you." But Vegeta wasn't moving. He didn't like the taller man for some reason he couldn't place, and he refused to have anything to do with him.

"Measurements?" He narrowed his eyes at the woman pulling on his arm and growled deeply.

Bulma let go of his arm and slapped her arms to her sides. "Yes, measurements. You know, how long your arms are, how wide your shoulders are, the works." She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "So get your butt over there and let Enrique measure you. _Now_."

Vegeta could tell from her tone of voice that she was about to start screaming if he didn't cooperate. While he wasn't concerned about making a scene in public, he was concerned about his sensitive hearing. He growled again, just to let her know that he resented doing it, and went to the area of the store where the manager was waiting patiently.

Bulma smirked and followed him just to make sure he didn't turn tail and run, especially once the actual measuring started. She knew Vegeta didn't trust other people touching him and he wasn't going to enjoy this process very much at all. Bulma willed him to relax and behave himself but still feared the worst. Hopefully Vegeta would know better than to blast the man into another dimension. She prayed that he could control himself.

"Ah, there you are," Enrique said when they stood in front of him. "You're going to be hard to fit, I believe. You're very muscular for your… stature." He extended a measuring tape and asked Vegeta to hold his arms out to the sides.

Vegeta looked at him as if he had just grown another head. "Why do you need me to do that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, "Just do it you can get this over with quickly."

Vegeta sighed and raised his arms, trying not to flinch when the man started measuring the length of his arms, the girth of his biceps, chest, and waist. He was grinding his teeth through it all and nearly killed the man when he went to measure his inseam. "What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted, jumping away from the man and his frisky fingers.

Enrique looked at Bulma, wondering where she had found such a jumpy partner. She shot him an apologetic look and told Vegeta in as calm a voice as she could muster, "Would you just _relax_, Vegeta? He's just measuring your inseam."

Vegeta growled and his tail lashed behind him, slightly bristled. "He was doing more than measuring any fucking inseam, whatever the hell that is." He snarled and snapped his teeth at Bulma when she took a step toward him to draw him back to finish getting measured.

She stopped and dropped her hand back down to her side. "Honestly, Vegeta. He's not trying to feel you up," she gestured her head toward Enrique, and almost fell over when she saw him blush slightly and look away in what could only be described as embarrassed guilt. "Oh hell," she muttered, "Why did you have to do that to Vegeta of all people?"

The saiyan would not let the offending man come any closer without backing away and baring his fangs at him. Enrique did not even seem to notice his feral appearance. Bulma knew that the situation could turn deadly at any moment, so she decided to step in. "Vegeta, will you let me measure the inseam instead?" Her tone was gentle, pleading as she snatched the measuring tape from the store manager and took a small step toward the riled saiyan prince.

His tail lashed a few more times before wrapping around his waist again and he straightened his back. The murderous sparkle in his eye faded and Bulma knew that he was going to allow her to do it. She felt awkward kneeling in front of him and measuring from his ankle to his crotch, but it had to be done. After she told Enrique the length of the inseam Vegeta would need, she handed the measuring tape back to him to let him finish the rest of the measurements. Vegeta warily watched him to make sure he kept his hands away from his crotch, but allowed him to continue his job.

"You… you have a tail," Enrique informed the prince, having just noticed it despite its lashing about earlier.

Vegeta scoffed at the man's lack of powers of observation. "Of course I do, you fool."

"Oh, yeah," Bulma told the confused man, "I forgot to mention that. He'll need a hole cut in the back of his pants for his tail."

Enrique nodded dumbly and backed away from the alien standing before him. "I'll go see what tuxes we have for him. Very hard to fit, you know." He ran into the back of the store, looking spooked, and didn't come back for several long minutes.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at the man's retreating back. Bulma saw his look of disdain and started laughing. "I'm really sorry about that, Vegeta."

He huffed angrily and turned his back to her. Finally Enrique returned from the back holding a black dinner jacket with a peaked lapel, a pair of matching black trousers with satin outer seams, and a white pleated turn-down collar shirt with onyx set in silver buttons and cufflinks. He handed them to the saiyan and told him to try them on in the fitting room at the side of the store.

Vegeta snarled a little, but accepted the clothes and went to the fitting room. A few minutes later he was dressed and he hated it. Bulma and Enrique had followed him over and were waiting outside the door when they heard an angry growling sound.

Bulma figured he was all dressed and yelled through the door, "Ok, Vegeta, come out so we can see how it fits."

There was more growling from inside. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with my tail?" he shouted.

"Oh. I don't know." Bulma looked to Enrique, who shrugged miserably. She sighed. "Just make a hole in the pants for it for now."

A minute later the saiyan opened the door and stepped out. He looked startlingly good, though the jacket hugged his chest a little too tightly and the pants were an inch too long. "Well?" He crossed his arms over his chest and his tail twitched agitatedly.

Enrique tapped his chin with his index finger as he circled around the saiyan. "The jacket does not fit quite right around the chest, so I'll have to have you try a larger one. You must have a lot of muscle, eh?" He grinned at Vegeta's flushing face.

He continued, "The pants fit well except for the length, but we can hem them easily. Could you take the jacket off, please?"

Vegeta gladly complied. He was tired of it restricting his movement. He shrugged it off and tossed it to Bulma, who was just standing nearby watching. Enrique continued his examination of the white dress shirt. "Hm, hm, the sleeves are just right, I'd say. Hold your arms out the sides again. Yes, they're the right length, and not too tight on your chest and shoulders."

Enrique took the jacket from Bulma to find a replacement when she asked, "Do you think you could get him a midnight blue tux instead of black?"

Vegeta's eyes snapped to the woman when he heard her request. Did she know that blue was the color of royalty on Vegeta-sei? Only members of the royal house could wear it at formal occasions such as the banquet. And darker blues were reserved for the king, queen, and crown prince. But she couldn't know that, there was no way. Still, his mood lightened slightly.

"Of course, Miss Brief, I'll see what I can find."

Enrique ran to the back of the store again and emerged a minute later with blue trousers and a blue jacket that would hopefully better fit the muscular prince. He handed them to Vegeta who went back into the fitting room and changed. There was considerably less grumbling this time as he came back out.

"Wow, you look great, Vegeta," Bulma blurted out. He smirked but gave no reply.

Enrique was circling around him again, checking out the new jacket. "I think this one is just right, Mr. Vegeta. Absolutely perfect. It fits you very well. And you look fabulous in that color, much better than black."

"Of course a prince of Vegeta-sei looks better in blue," Vegeta said nonchalantly. He received puzzled looks from Enrique and Bulma. One didn't know what on earth he was talking about and the other didn't understand why he would look better in blue because of his title.

"Alright, we'll get this tux then," Bulma said at last. "Do you have a tie to match?" While Enrique went to get one she turned to Vegeta and looked him over again. "Maybe I should get a dress to match that shade of blue," she said to herself.

Vegeta bristled at that idea. "If you do, then I will not accompany you to the banquet."

"Why?" she asked, "What would be wrong with that?"

"Because it would be improper for the Prince of all Saiyans to be seen with a woman he is not mated to wearing blue at a formal event," he explained.

"Not any shade of blue?"

"No."

"But we're not on Vegeta-sei, Vegeta. We're on Earth, and here it's common for a man and a woman to match the colors of their formalwear."

"We are not on Vegeta-sei but I am still its prince and I will hold to its culture regardless of where I find myself." Bulma could see that he was going to stand firm on this decision. She figured it must have had quite a bit of significance on his home planet for him to care so much, so she relented.

"Fine, are any other colors forbidden me to wear?" she asked snidely.

"As long as it isn't blue I couldn't care less what you wear."

Just then Enrique came back with a matching navy blue bow tie and handed it to the prince, who looked at the foreign object with a great deal of confusion. He shrugged and handed it over to Bulma and took the jacket off and gave it to her too. When he went back to the fitting room to change into his own clothes again, he heard Enrique saying to Bulma, "Miss Brief, he is absolutely gorgeous! Where on Earth did you find him?" He shuddered and slammed the door closed.

Bulma laughed before answering, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. And anyway we're not together. I'm still dating Yamcha. You remember him, don't you?"

Enrique groaned. "Do I ever. I have never met a more fidgety man in my life. It made measuring him nearly impossible. And he's not nearly as attractive as this Mr. Vegeta fellow, you know." He winked at Bulma and elbowed her gently in the side. She laughed again.

"You are _terrible_, Enrique. You should be more careful when talking about Vegeta. He's pretty touchy."

The subject of their conversation emerged again from the fitting room and shoved the tuxedo into Bulma's arms. He still looked mistrustful of Enrique and steered clear of him and kept his tail wrapped around his waist. "Can we go now, Woman?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I'll buy this tux, Enrique. I would like to see your selection of cocktail dresses, too."

"Of course! I think I have just the thing for you. It's just gorgeous, really!" He took the tuxedo from her and laid it out on the counter by the cash register so it wouldn't get wrinkled. "Follow me into the back and I'll let you see it."

Bulma walked with him into the back of the store, leaving Vegeta standing alone in the front. He was relieved to be rid of that perverted man, but he was afraid that he would be waiting a long time. Sighing, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest and rested his chin on his chest.

Enrique took Bulma over to a rack with brightly colored dresses sparkling with jewels and pulled one off to show her. "I believe this is even in your size," he told her excitedly. "It just arrived from our designer and it's a one of a kind. Well, most of the dresses here are, you know, but this one really is special."

Bulma gasped in delight when she saw it. The strapless dress was made of silver satin and was ruched at the left side with a large bow that hung vertically. Tiny diamonds were embroidered into the fabric along the angle of the ruching. It was, in a word, elegant.

"Oh my Kami, Enrique, I love it! I want to try it on."

She took the dress and practically ran to the fitting room in the back of the store to change. The tight dress fell to just above her knees and hugged her curves perfectly. Everyone within a mile probably could have heard her exclaim, "It's perfect!"

Bulma stepped out of the fitting room and Enrique circled around her as he had done with Vegeta. He made soft murmuring sounds of approval all the way around. "Miss Brief, I do believe this dress was made _just_ for you." He grinned at her brilliant smile.

"I want it! I don't care how much it costs, it's mine," she giggled and twirled around. "I just love it. You'd better have shoes to go with it."

Enrique was giggling right along with her. "Of course, of course! I'll go see what we have while you get changed. Just come to the front of the store when you're ready."

Bulma went back into the fitting room and reluctantly took the dress off. She couldn't wait to wear it on Saturday. She'd knock Vegeta dead with her beauty. She smiled to herself as she thought that and pulled her clothes back on.

Back at the front of the store Enrique had picked out a pair of silver strappy heels that would go perfectly with Bulma's dress. Just for good measure, he also picked up a pair of black Oxfords with silver caps. Bulma finally came to the front of the store and fell in love with the shoes as quickly as she had fallen in love with the dress.

"These are just great, Enrique, you're the best," she said, taking the silver heels from him.

Enrique nodded his gratitude for the compliment. "I also thought that perhaps you would need some shoes for the gentleman?" He presented the Oxfords to her with a toothy grin.

"You read my mind," she told him. "Hey Vegeta, get over here!"

Vegeta's eyes opened and he glared at the woman who had beckoned him in such a disrespectful manner. Grumbling, he went over to where she was standing with the horrible groping man and barked, "What?"

"What do you think of these shoes?" she asked, handing him the pair of shoes chosen for him. He looked them over for a few seconds and shrugged.

"They're adequate."

Bulma rolled her eyes. Couldn't he ever say something was good or bad? It was hard to tell if he really liked something or not when all he used were neutral terms like 'adequate.' It was vaguely irritating. "Well what size shoe do you wear?"

Vegeta raised his eyebrow at her. "How should I know?"

Enrique started at that comment. He didn't know how anyone could not know their own shoe size. What a strange man this was.

Bulma sighed. "Check inside of your shoe and it should say."

Vegeta hissed in irritation but looked inside his shoe for the size. "Eight."

"I'll have to check in the back to see if we have them in that size," Enrique said and ran into the back one more time. A few minutes later he came back holding a box and gave it to the saiyan who was by now extremely irate. "Try these on."

Vegeta kicked his shoes off and put the Oxfords on. He walked around a little and took them off again. "They fit." He put his own shoes back on and scowled at the woman. "Are we done now?"

"Ugh, yes, Vegeta, we're done." Bulma rubbed her temples as another headache started to come on.

"Good, you have kept me from my training long enough." Without waiting for her to pay for the clothes and shoes, Vegeta walked out of the store and took to the sky to head back to Capsule Corp. Bulma watched him go and growled in frustration.

Enrique nearly fainted when he saw the saiyan fly away. "He has a tail. And he can fly."

Bulma nodded. "He's a talented man," she grumbled as she pulled her credit card out to pay for her things.

Vegeta landed on his balcony and walked in the door. He quickly stripped off the clothes he was wearing and pulled his training shorts back on. He ran downstairs to the gravity room, transforming into a super saiyan before he reached it. He was more eager than ever to train after having to restrain himself from killing that disgusting human. He had some pent up anger that he intended to take out in his training.

He set the gravity console to 500Gs and dove right into a battle with one of his invisible opponents, skipping the warm up and his kata. He had already wasted two hours of his afternoon and he wasn't going to lose any more time. He didn't even care that his ears were most likely going to bleed when the woman saw him next for leaving the way he did.

Indeed, by the time Bulma drove back to Capsule Corp she was absolutely fuming. She was disgusted with Vegeta's horrible behavior at the store and she was furious that he had just left her there. Just because he could take himself back home without a vehicle didn't mean he _should_. It was just rude. Completely, unforgivably rude. She grabbed the bags from the backseat and capsulated her car before storming in the front door of the compound. She dropped the bags and kicked the door closed behind her.

"That jerk is going to get it when I see him next time. I'm going to fucking strangle him!" She shouted to herself as she stomped down the hall to her lab. "I can't believe him!" She locked herself in her lab and started working on one of her inventions. There was one thing to be said about her anger: it made her twice as productive since she had so much extra energy and a need for distraction that she would completely absorb herself in her work.

And so the afternoon passed, with Bulma working in her lab, Vegeta training in the gravity room, and Mrs. Brief cooking dinner in the kitchen. Their routine might seem boring to anyone else, but they each enjoyed what they did. And so, for the time being, the compound was peaceful inside.

_A/N: No offense intended with the stereotypical gay guy. Now all that's left is the banquet! See how Vegeta handles that wonderful situation in the next chapter! And then we get to the best part..._

_And wow, over 100 reviews! In only 17 chapters. I think that's pretty good. So here's a new goal: over 200 reviews before reaching chapter 30. Are you up to it? :)_

_Song: "Shopping" by Barenaked Ladies_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

It was Saturday afternoon and Vegeta was training in the gravity room while Bulma prepared her short presentation for the banquet. Mrs. Brief was picking up the catering and Dr. Brief had disappeared into his own lab to finish some last minute details on one of Capsule Corp's latest big inventions. The air inside the compound was charged with energy in lieu of the upcoming event. The banquet hall had been set and ready to go for hours, the house was cleaner than it had been since the last banquet, and servant bots were running around waiting to be of use. And yet the saiyan was largely oblivious to the controlled chaos.

Vegeta had all but forgotten about the banquet, having pushed it to the back of his mind after his terrible shopping experience. He had avoided Bulma the past couple days after knowingly angering her at the store and he didn't want to deal with her ear piercing screams of indignation directed solely at him. So he had made himself scarce, skipping meals when the Briefs were in the kitchen and grabbing leftovers later, being more obstinate about coming out of the gravity room than usual, and getting up earlier after going to bed later, just to avoid the risk of being caught alone by the blue-haired banshee.

The absence of the prince did not go unnoticed by Bulma. She was over her fury later in the afternoon after he had abandoned her at the store, but she still had not seen him. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought he was scared to face the music after pulling his little stunt in the middle of the city where countless witnesses could have seen him flying away. In some way she was proud of herself for being able to invoke terror in the heart of the almighty saiyan, but she knew it was more out of his desire to retain his hearing than actual fear that made him steer clear of her. Regardless of his reasoning for staying away, she was beginning to miss his gruff voice and the verbal spars that made her life more interesting.

Bulma checked the clock at 5:00PM and figured it was about time to get ready for the banquet. The guests would be arriving at around 6:30 and dinner would begin at 7:00. She put the finishing touches on her presentation and stood up from her desk. The hum of the gravity simulator could still be heard and she wondered if it might not be a bad idea to go and remind Vegeta that he had promised to attend the banquet and needed to be ready in an hour and a half. She sighed and went upstairs to go hunt the elusive saiyan down.

Vegeta felt the blue-haired woman's ki moving through the compound in his direction and groaned in irritation. He didn't want her to interrupt his training but he knew that she would want to pester him about the damned banquet he had agreed to attend as her escort, and she likely wouldn't shut up until she'd had her say. He slammed his hand on the deactivation button on the gravity console and listened to the simulator power down. His body felt like air as he walked over to the door and opened it just as the woman reached it.

Bulma jumped when the door opened in front of her; she had expected to have to knock on it and scream at the saiyan to get him to respond. But there he was, hair glowing golden and haunting teal eyes fixed on her blue orbs.

"What do you want, Woman?" he asked distractedly. He was already losing patience and the conversation hadn't even started yet.

"Hello to you too," she snapped, really not in the mood for his attitude. "I just wanted to remind you that you should be dressed and ready for the banquet by 6:30. So don't get so carried away with your training you forget."

Vegeta scoffed and shook his head at her before crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at her. "Are you really so worried I would go back on my promise to escort you to your foolish dinner?" His tail flicked behind him in irritation as he drew himself to his full height. "I have not forgotten, though I do regret agreeing to this."

Bulma glared at him as she planted her hands on her hips, ready to go into battle with the disagreeable creature standing before her. "Look, bud, if you really don't want to go then I don't want to go with you. If you really regret deciding to go then I guess I'm sorry I invited you." She was trying hard to force back the feelings of rejection and disappointment that were rising up in her throat. First he avoided her for days and then he says he doesn't even want to go through with something he promised to do with no explanation as to why he would change his mind. She couldn't help but think that maybe he just didn't want to be seen with her.

Bulma's emotions were displayed for all to see on her face and Vegeta felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt at what he had said to her. He couldn't understand why she was taking it so personally; he merely wanted to continue his training and he was still peeved about being groped by another man when she had taken him to buy that awful tuxedo garment. He had only worn it for a few minutes in the store but he hated the way it restricted his movements.

"Woman, I am going to go because I said I would. Stop your blubbering and leave me so that I can finish my training," he said, his voice deadpan as he closed the door again in her face.

It was only then that Bulma realized there were in fact tears forming in her eyes because of his caustic attitude. "Fine, you jerk," she said as she kicked the door. She inhaled deeply to calm herself and turned to go up to her room to get herself ready for the banquet.

At 6:00 Vegeta finally left the gravity room and went to his room for a quick shower before adorning the wretched constricting suit. He could feel the woman's ki in her bedroom and when he was inside his own he could hear her through the wall, shouting about something, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He quirked an eyebrow but shrugged, telling himself it wasn't his problem, before he pulled his shoes and shorts off and went into his bathroom for his shower.

Bulma was frowning at herself in the mirror of her vanity as she put her makeup on. Her loosely curled hair was pulled in a bun that trailed down her neck and loose strands framing her face. She was wearing her silver dress, yet as gorgeous as she looked, she was in a foul mood. She was ranting to herself about "rude saiyans," "that pig-headed alien," and "worst night ever." She didn't even notice when her ranting turned to shouting and she threw her compact at the wall, which only resulted in its destruction, but she didn't really care.

'I should have just asked Yamcha to go with me. I think I'd rather put up with his childish behavior than have that arrogant bastard with me all night.' She huffed and finished applying her eye shadow. She had gone with the less is more theory for the night and was quite pleased with the results. 'At least I look damn good. Maybe that'll shut his stupid mouth.'

She slipped on a tasteful diamond bracelet that matched her necklace and earrings and plastered on a smile for herself in the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, Bulma slipped her heels on and went downstairs to help her mother finish setting out the food before the guests came. It was going to be a long, boring night, but she resolved to try and make the best of it.

Vegeta quickly scrubbed himself down in the shower with the bar of soap the woman had provided him. Its smell was tolerable, unlike some of the other soaps she had given him before, since there was barely any sort of fragrance at all. Just for good measure he used his shampoo on both his hair and his tail, wanting it to look its best. He got out of the shower and dried his hair and tail with his towel before wrapping it around his hips and walking out of his bathroom.

He pulled the tuxedo out of his closet and laid it out on the bed and pulled his boxers on before forcing himself into the midnight blue trousers and white shirt. He growled in irritation at the difficulty he had with the buttons but finally managed to get it all buttoned up. 'Primitive devices,' he thought as he slung the tie around his neck.

For the next ten minutes he struggled with the thing, trying to figure out how he was supposed to tie it. After several failed attempts he tore it off and glared at it, thinking it might be worth the yelling he would receive from the woman to incinerate the damned scrap of cloth. He shook his head and tossed it to the side before putting on his socks and shoes. The clock read 6:24 when he left his room and went downstairs to find the woman, tie stuffed in his pocket and jacket hung over his shoulder.

"Woman!" he barked once he was downstairs. "Woman, I require your assistance at once." He sensed for her ki and followed it through the maze of halls until he entered a large room with a long table set with fine china, crystal glasses, and polished silverware. There was a white tablecloth with black embroidery around its edge and black silk napkins folded on each dinner plate. At the side of the room were more tables with matching tablecloths and chafing dishes set up as a buffet filled with exotic and expensive delicacies. He sniffed the air as he approached the food and his mouth began watering.

"Woman," he growled when he came up behind the blue-haired woman who was bent over to light a stubborn burner under one of the chafing dishes that kept going out.

Bulma nearly jumped through the roof when she heard the saiyan's deep, irritated growl behind her. She stood up and looked at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?" Her eyes widened. "Vegeta, why the hell aren't you finished getting dressed yet? The guests are going to be here in five minutes!"

Vegeta clenched his teeth at the woman's screeching voice and glared at her as he dug the tie out of his pocket and shoved it in her face. "I don't know how to tie the damned thing."

Bulma's eyes softened when she realized that he was asking for her help no matter how much it hurt his pride to admit he didn't know how to do something as simple as tying a bowtie. "Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" She took the tie from him and put it around his neck and explained what she was doing as she tied it for him. When she had it tied, she undid it and handed it back to him so he could try his hand at it.

"I don't understand the point of this thing," he grumbled as he tied it perfectly.

Bulma shrugged. "I don't really know where they originated. I guess it is kind of silly, but it's proper, so just go with it. Put your jacket on while I finish this." She turned back to the burner she was determined to get started and flicked her lighter to light the wick. It took her a few tries and some cursing, but finally the flame burned brightly, warming the food above.

When she turned around again Vegeta had put his jacket on and had it buttoned up. His tail was wrapped around his waist high enough to be hidden under his jacket. For that, Bulma was somewhat grateful since she didn't want it drawing unwanted attention, but she was wondering if it wasn't done more out of insecurity than wanting to spare her from having to give explanations to the Capsule Corp employees.

She smiled warmly at him and took his arm in hers. "You look great, Vegeta," she whispered in his ear as she pulled him out of the banquet hall toward the front door of the compound to wait for the guests. Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief were already waiting there and smiled in greeting at their daughter and houseguest.

"Bulma, dear, you look stunning," Dr. Brief said as he pulled his daughter in for a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Daddy. You look pretty dashing yourself," she said and winked at his blush.

The doorbell rang and Mrs. Brief pranced over to the door to answer it, ushering in two older couples to be greeted by the president and vice president of the corporation. Soon there was a regular flow of people coming in, shaking hands with the Briefs before making their way toward the banquet hall to mingle. Vegeta stood by Bulma's side through it all, but he refused to shake any hands that were held out to him and gave sneers to those who bothered greeting him kindly.

Bulma smacked his arm lightly at his rudeness, but couldn't help her mouth from twitching in suppressed laughter at the indignant huffs he received. 'Silly old coots,' she thought. 'I'd be mad but I'm glad he's putting them in their place. They think they practically run this company and act like they hold more power than they do.' Still, she forced a smile for them all and shook hands and chatted merrily as if she thought the world of each of them.

Vegeta could practically smell her deception as she made them believe she was interested in the frivolous stories and news they shared with her before moving on. He smirked and lightly thwacked her ass with his tail when he heard her grumbling under her breath about the idiocy of one man in particular. She gave a short "eep" and shot a cold glare at him but gave no other acknowledgement of his action.

When the last of the guests had arrived and Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief had followed them all back toward the banquet, Vegeta leaned down and purred in her ear, "Never voice your distaste for a guest. You don't know who might hear." She gaped at him for a moment but was jerked forward by the tail that had snaked around her waist and she was pulled to the banquet hall.

Bulma hooked her arm through the saiyan's and straightened her posture to match his, aware of how bad he could make her look with his regal poise and effortless movement. She was used to standing with someone who paled in comparison to her in etiquette, but tonight she would have her work cut out for her in trying to equal a trained prince.

They turned the corner to go join the party where the crowd had broken into small groups that were discussing business, the weather, and other pleasantries while servant bots brought them appetizers and champagne. Many heads turned to see the elegant couple enter the room and several conversations among the younger employees stopped as they stared unabashedly at the beautiful heiress and devilishly handsome escort. Both smirked at the effect their presence had. It was just as it should be: jaw-dropping.

Vegeta's tail had inconspicuously wrapped around his waist again as he sized up the people of the crowd as he would an army of foes. None posed him or the woman and her parents any threat, but he could see some resentment in some of them, perhaps because of a deep jealousy for the success, prestige, and wealth of their employers. Others were loyal to a fault to the Briefs family and would sooner die than leave the company or dream of usurping their power. He had seen it all before at all the other similar dinners he had attended. It came with the territory. Even the strongest regime had power-hungry insurgents as well as spineless lap dogs.

Bulma attempted to make her way through the clusters of people to get to her parents, but she was stopped by a gentle hand on her forearm. It was a middle-aged woman who looked like she used too much Botox and dyed her hair a shade or two too dark to be appealing. Her curly hair was piled on top of her head and she was wearing a ridiculously low-cut olive green dress. Bulma hid her disgust at the older woman's high school prom attire.

"Miss Brief – may I call you Bulma? – Bulma, dear, who _is_ this handsome young man with you?" Her eyes looked Vegeta up and down lustfully and he had to suppress a shudder.

Bulma sighed inwardly and answered flatly, "This is our houseguest, Prince Vegeta." Vegeta perked up just a little at her free use of his title. Pride exploded in his chest.

The woman's eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously. "_Prince_ Vegeta? Where are you from?" She looked him over again. "Though I can see you look to be of royal lineage." The suggestiveness in her tone made him feel queasy.

Vegeta cleared his throat softly and nudged Bulma to move on. He knew he was supposed to keep his identity a secret and he didn't trust that woman to keep any secrets if she found something out about him she wasn't supposed to know. She took the hint and patted the woman's arm as she said cheerfully, "It was nice chatting with you, Mona, but I need to go talk with my parents."

Bulma tugged Vegeta's arm and they made a quick retreat from the hideous creature before they were forced to answer any more questions or accidentally let something drop that could get them into trouble. "Is that woman always like that?" he growled once they were out of earshot. He felt dirty after the way she looked at him.

"Usually. She's old and divorced and she has a thing for younger men. It's disgusting the way she throws herself at them," Bulma said and grimaced at the mental image. Vegeta did shudder that time.

When they reached the elder Briefs, they were announcing the beginning of the banquet and invited the guests to help themselves at the buffet. Slowly they crowded over to the line of chafing dishes and went to sit down at the table with food in hand. The hush that had come over them when Dr. Brief made his announcement lifted as normal conversation started up again. When Vegeta went to get his food, Bulma held him back and whispered to him, "Only get one plate of food. I've programmed the servant bots to bring you more food and take away your dirty dishes so that the guests won't notice your insane appetite."

Vegeta rolled his eyes but nodded his understanding. He was getting tired of having to hide what he was from these pathetic humans all the time. He couldn't fly in public, couldn't show his tail to too many people, had to keep quiet about his royal status, where he came from, what he was doing at the Briefs', and now he had to conceal his saiyan appetite. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the blue-haired woman wanted him to be a human so he could just fit in and spare her any embarrassment associated with housing an alien.

"Tell me," he growled so low only Bulma could hear, "Am I allowed to breathe, or do I do that differently than you humans as well?" He glared at a younger woman who passed by him and gave him a seductive wink and shake of the hips.

"What? What do you mean?"

He clenched and unclenched his fist and the tip of his tail twitched agitatedly. "Why must you take so many precautions to hide what I am? Are you ashamed of my race?"

Bulma's heart stopped for a second. Did he really believe that? "No, that's not it, I'm just afraid of how people would take it if they found out you're not human. It might go over badly."

He stayed silent and brooded for a few minutes as he and the woman went to get their food from the buffet. They were followed by the elder Briefs and when they had their food they returned to their places at the head of the long table. The clatter of silverware mixed with the sounds of conversations and laughing and Vegeta gritted his teeth at the irritatingly high volume. Bulma could sense his tension as he ate at his normal pace, but couldn't figure out what was bothering him. So far he had been mostly at ease, or at least he had seemed relaxed.

Vegeta's eyes constantly flickered around the table, not willing to keep anyone out of sight for too long in case they tried anything suspicious. Years of assassination attempts happening at the dinners he attended had left their mark on him; he had been the subject of several attempts, so his alertness was heightened at such events. He was on edge and uncomfortable, but he didn't show it. It was never wise to let others know he was paranoid.

Subconsciously he pulled the blue-haired woman's chair closer to his with his foot and wrapped his tail around her leg under her dress. She jumped in surprise but it went unnoticed by her guests and parents. As she ate she watched his eyes and saw them keeping watch on the guests and figured he was expecting someone to attack, so he was keeping her close in case he needed to defend her. She smiled sadly, glad that he wanted to protect her, but sorry that he felt he needed to. There was no danger here, yet he couldn't shake old habits.

Bulma was impressed that despite having his guard up, he looked perfectly calm aside from his wary eyes. He was eating at his usual pace and grace – his manners were perfect. He remained quiet throughout the meal, but he listened when she spoke to him and would sometimes smirk or even chuckle at what she said. He carefully handed his dirty plates off to the bots and accepted more food so as not to draw attention to himself and was overall very well-behaved, much more than Bulma could have asked for.

When he had finished, he sat straight in his seat and nursed his glass of water, his eyes still roaming around the table. He whispered to Bulma, "The old man next to the red-haired woman, the one with the thin moustache, seems to have something against your sire."

Bulma looked at the man in question and turned questioning eyes on her escort. "How do you know?"

"He occasionally looks at him with some kind of malice and his ki flickers in irritation." Vegeta took another sip of his water, his right hand resting in his lap.

Bulma's mouth formed an "O" and she took another bite of her salad. She watched the old man with her peripheral vision and caught one of his malicious glances. "I don't know what his problem would be. Dr. Gionelli has worked in the medical research labs for years. He's a veteran of the company."

Vegeta nodded slowly. "Probably, then, he wants more power over the corporation. You should keep an eye on him, see if he has support from other employees who might try to help him force his way into your board of directors. He might cause trouble if he feels he has been slighted by your sire by lack of promotion."

She looked at him in silent wonder. Not only had he observed what she had not, but he had come to a probable conclusion as to the reason behind it and told her to be careful with the situation. It was apparent he had dealt with such people before, though most likely in the political realm rather than business. Still, what he said was plausible enough for her to take note.

Then Bulma smirked. Maybe this dinner wouldn't be so dull after all. "What else can you tell me about how people feel about me or my dad? Or the company?"

Vegeta chuckled and swept his gaze around the table. "The woman near the end of the table, the one with dark brown hair in the red dress. She's jealous of you."

"Jealous? Why?" Bulma grinned but tried to hide it as she drank her wine.

"Because you're with me."

Bulma nearly spat her drink out in surprise at the bluntness of his answer. Not that he was ever one to hide the truth, but she had not expected that. Feeling mischievous, Bulma inched closer to him and looped her arm through his as she leaned in as if to whisper into his ear. It was a friendly, yet intimate, gesture. She kept her eyes on the brunette and sure enough she saw an expression of envy cross her face. Bulma smirked again and whispered, "I think you're right." She chuckled and went back to eating, an innocent look on her face.

"Woman, you are evil," Vegeta said, impressed. "I think I have underestimated you."

"Evil? Little ol' me?" Bulma put her hand over her heart in mock disbelief. Vegeta swatted her leg with his tail as a playful reprimand. The corners of his mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile at her antics and he took another drink of water.

Vegeta decided to continue their little game. "The boy across the table and two seats down has been staring at you all night. At least, below your neck," he added casually. He saw Bulma's cheeks flush lightly and gave her a devilish grin.

When Bulma looked, the young man sitting on the other side of the table was, indeed, undressing her with his eyes. She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, cutting off his view of her cleavage. "Little pervert," she muttered.

Vegeta snorted. "If you put it on display, why do you expect no one to look?"

"It's not on display!" she cried, drawing a few shocked glanced from those sitting near her.

"What's not on display, honey?" Mrs. Brief asked, concerned because of the tone her daughter used in her exclamation.

Bulma turned beet red. "Nothing, Mom. Never mind." She slapped Vegeta's arm as he laughed at her embarrassment. "Shut up, you big jerk. Don't be so crude."

Vegeta grabbed her offending hand firmly and gave her an admonishing look, though there was only amusement dancing in his ebony orbs. "Don't hit a saiyan unless you want to lose your limb," he warned as he lightly bit her fingers, earning a slight yelp of surprise.

"Yeah, whatever, you wouldn't hurt me," she said confidently and stuck her tongue out at him. A very juvenile gesture, but she didn't care. She jumped back when Vegeta snapped his teeth at it and smirked at her.

"Honestly, you two," Dr. Brief grumbled, "You're acting like children." He gave Bulma and Vegeta a disapproving glare but could only hold it for a few seconds before an amused chuckle slipped out. It was improper to act so childishly at a formal banquet, but he was glad that his daughter was happy and her escort was keeping her amused and seemed to be in high spirits. He knew how unpleasant the man could be around when he was in a foul mood, which was most of the time. He held nothing against the surly saiyan, but he preferred his good moods by far.

Bulma grinned and apologized. "Sorry, Daddy, we'll try to behave." She held up her crossed fingers and winked at her father. He shook his head and turned back to eating and chatting with his wife.

Vegeta, though, did not appreciate being likened to a child and he raised his walls again and stopped horsing around with the woman. He would still make humorous comments to her, but that was all. A few minutes later, Dr. Brief stood up and told his dinner party that the presentations would begin while they finished their dinners and started dessert.

"First, my daughter and vice president of Capsule Corp, Bulma Brief, will give a presentation on the company's newest projects and goals for the next year." A polite applause followed Bulma as she stood and walked to the front of the room where there was a white screen for her to project her slides onto. Vegeta listened with mild interest as Bulma gave her speech, but he was more attuned to the ki of the Capsule Corp employees to figure out their feelings toward the blue-haired genius. He found a mixed review: some loved her and others hated her, but he was not able to clearly determine the why behind any of their feelings.

Another polite applause followed her presentation as she returned to her seat at the right hand of her father and next to Vegeta. "So, did I bore you out of your mind?" she asked.

He snorted but shook his head. "Trust me, I have heard speeches a thousand times duller than that." His back-handed compliment caught her off guard, but it pleased her nonetheless. "But there were some in your audience that were not much impressed with it. That or they just didn't like that it was coming from you."

Bulma's ears perked up at his comment. "What do you mean?" The next presentation had started so she was leaning closer to him and whispering quietly, her warm breath tickling his ear.

"There are some here who may not appreciate the fact that you have power over them." He pointed them out with subtle gestures with his head. Some were, in fact, shooting her brief looks of disdain even as they listened to the presentation being given by the head of the newly founded weapons department that dealt with the military.

Bulma frowned and hissed through clenched teeth. "I knew some of them didn't like me already. I think they're just mad that a _woman_ is going to be president of the company when dad retires. They're sexist pigs."

"And the others?" He looked around at them again, trying to read any signs they were giving that would help him understand their animosity toward the blue-haired scientist.

Bulma shrugged and took another sip of wine. "Probably jealous. Especially some of the younger ones. They probably think they ought to have an equal chance at moving up the ladder."

Vegeta nodded and wrapped his tail around her waist. For some reason knowing there were negative feelings held against the little woman made him feel more protective over her. He knew there was nothing he could do about it, but he didn't want them to hurt her in any way. They could possibly cause her trouble, maybe not anytime soon, but if they gained more power in the company, they might try to give her a run for her money as its leader. He didn't like that thought. He knew she was highly capable and deserved the position of president.

Still somewhat miffed about Vegeta's revelation, Bulma tried to listen to the presentation. The man speaking was fairly young and seemed nervous as he reported his department's projects, goals, accomplishments, and expected growth.

"They're not all going to be this bad, I hope?" Vegeta asked with a sneer.

Bulma giggled quietly and swatted his arm yet again. "Be nice. He's new to the company and hasn't had the chance to earn the respect of everyone here yet. They can be pretty intimidating if you consider how much they've done for the company. Any rookie would be nervous to present in front of them."

Vegeta snorted. "He'll never earn their respect if he soils his pants in front of them."

"You are awful!" Bulma's words were drowned out by another polite round of applause as the young man concluded and hastily returned to his seat at the table while another older man stood and prepared his presentation. She knew he heard her though when he gave her an amused smirk and turned to listen to the next speech.

"Oh, Kami," Bulma grumbled, "Mr. Sato always talks for_ever_ and he's so boring!"

Vegeta chuckled and turned back to her. "But he is an elder. You can likely learn much from him if you listen well." The tip of his tail brushed against her arm as if trying to coax her to drop her presumptions and open her mind to what the old man had to say.

She sighed and nodded. As usual, the saiyan prince was right. Sometimes she was surprised at his wisdom and insight. She wouldn't have pegged him as one to put much stock into anything anyone said, much less some old coot from a "primitive, backwater planet" like Earth. Yet he sat there listening attentively, and he wasn't even an employee at Capsule Corp. 'Maybe I should just have him listen and take notes for me,' she mused. When she realized her mind was wandering she tried to refocus on the speech being given in a soft monotone.

Nearly half an hour later Mr. Sato finally finished his speech and opened up the floor for questions. Bulma was the only one who had one, which came as some surprise to her. Had she been the only one listening closely enough to know what he was talking about to even know what to ask? From the tired and bored looks on everyone's faces, she figured so. After her question had been answered, Vegeta shot her an "I-told-you-so" look.

She rolled her eyes but didn't miss the approving expression on her father's face. He was impressed with the insight behind her question and knew that she had been very attentive to the old man's dreadfully dull presentation. He patted her hand, communicating to her that she had done well in showing she was interested in the proceedings of all the departments of the corporation and she was capable of understanding, overseeing, and improving their projects, which she would need to be able to do as the future president.

Bulma was so proud of herself at that point that she nearly forgot to pay attention to the entire presentation following Mr. Sato's. She was brought back to reality when she felt a warm breath on her ear and heard a deep voice whisper, "Don't gloat now, Woman. Listen."

The rest of the presentations were given and Bulma found herself unusually absorbed in what the speakers were saying. She could only give credit to the saiyan next to her who kept her amused enough with short quips periodically and encouraged her to listen and learn from each of the presenters. Through it all, she gained a sense of involvement in the company she usually lacked, which sometimes made her feel she wasn't cut out for the job of vice president, let alone president. For that, she silently thanked Vegeta.

It was getting late at night when the presentations finally ended. The guests were dismissed to mingle for a while before they went home. Though Bulma was tired, she knew she had to stay around until the last of them had left. She stood from the table along with everyone else while the servant bots cleared off the table and continued their rounds serving champagne.

"So, that wasn't too bad, was it?" she asked Vegeta as she hooked her arm in his again and leaned against him.

"Hn."

"You're behaving wonderfully, you know. I'm impressed." Bulma pecked his cheek to show her appreciation for his relative politeness and impeccable manners.

He cocked his head at her and she could see confusion in his eyes. "Woman, you know I am a prince. What did you expect of me, to act like a peasant fool?"

"No, I was just afraid you would get all bored and rude or something."

Vegeta huffed slightly. "I told you, I've been to hundreds of similar dinners where I had to be on my 'best behavior.' I learned to never let my guard down and to listen carefully to anyone who speaks as I could learn something very important; sometimes it may be a hidden threat, and sometimes it is just some piece of information I could use to my own benefit."

"Is that why you're so good at reading people here?"

"Hn."

Bulma walked with Vegeta around the banquet hall, politely nodding her head to her employees as she passed. She grabbed a glass of champagne from a servant bot and downed it in one gulp. "I'm getting tired. I want everyone to leave," she murmured for her escort to hear.

That was when a group of younger women approached the odd pair, whispering behind their hands to each other and gazing at Vegeta curiously. One of them spoke first to Bulma, "Hello, Miss Brief. We were hoping you would introduce us to your friend."

Bulma raised an eyebrow. 'That was bold,' she thought. Then she answered, "Of course. This is Prince Vegeta. He's been staying with us as our houseguest." She drew him slightly closer and Vegeta couldn't help but think she was trying to send the message to back off to the other women. He didn't know why, though.

"A prince? Really?" another of the girls asked, eyes widening in admiration.

"Hn."

"Oh!" the third girl exclaimed, "I'd heard some rumors around the office that there was an, um, _esteemed_ houseguest staying with the Briefs. Really, you house some of the most important people in the world."

Bulma fake grinned. "Well, sometimes we do, yes. Prince Vegeta has been staying with us for a few months now."

Vegeta wondered what the woman was doing. She was telling them more than she usually let slip with other people, probably more trustworthy people. Was she trying to make them jealous? If they were anything like the brunette in the red dress, they would be.

"Months?" the second girl asked. "What are you in the city for, Prince Vegeta?" She looked up at him with shining hazel eyes and batted her eyelashes at him shyly. For some reason he didn't like her doing that, but he tried to conceal his discomfort.

He tried to come up with a plausible excuse. "Miss Brief and I have been developing and testing some military training equipment," he lied. Well, it wasn't a complete lie, he thought.

Bulma coughed to cover her laugh at his shrewdness. His ability to twist words around was simply genius. He had answered their question honestly without telling them anything they shouldn't know about him. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her coughing fit but shrugged it off.

When he saw they were about to ask another question, he cut them off. "But enough about me. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" he asked smoothly.

Bulma caught on to what he was doing: throwing them off track. She answered for them, "I'm sorry, Prince Vegeta, this is Monika Ono, Tammy Unger, and Julie Anderson."

Vegeta nodded to each of them as they were introduced. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you," he said drily and turned on his heel with Bulma in tow. He didn't honestly care what they thought of his abrupt exit because frankly he was tired of answering their idiotic questions. It hadn't been a pleasure meeting them at all, but proper etiquette forbade him to voice his true feelings toward them. And for the night he was behaving well for the woman's sake.

"Thank Kami we got away from them," Bulma muttered. "The sniveling whores."

Vegeta chuckled and swatted her with his tail again. "What did I tell you about speaking poorly of your guests, Woman?" his low voice rumbled in her ear.

Bulma sighed. "Don't do it, I know. But it's the truth!" she defended herself.

Vegeta tsked at her. "It doesn't matter. As long as they are still present you must not reveal what you think about them if it is a low opinion. It could be used against you later."

She glowered at him and puffed a loose strand of hair from her face. "This isn't some political game we're playing here. What could they possibly do because I don't like them?"

The saiyan turned her to face him and answered in a serious tone, "If a person knows how you feel about them, then they will likely feel the same about you. That can lead to them holding a grudge against you, and if they do, then some may go to great lengths to cut your feet out from under you. This is not political, but business is hardly different. Everything revolves around power. You cannot deny that."

Bulma sighed again and shrugged her resignation. "I guess. I just usually don't think about things before I say them."

"I'm well aware of that."

Bulma chuckled and pulled her escort into the crowd to mingle more. Being a good hostess was a pain, but it was expected of her. And apparently she had some people to win over to her side, so she wasn't going to stand off to the side and refuse to show herself as a strong, brilliant, and competent woman who cared about her employees and her company.

As they walked Bulma grabbed another glass of champagne but sipped it slowly instead of downing it all at once. Vegeta watched her nursing the bubbly liquid and asked, "Why do you drink that foul beverage?"

She turned to him, slightly confused, and looked at the drink in her hand. "Oh, champagne? I don't know, I guess it calms my nerves when I'm around these people too long." She smiled weakly and took another sip.

Vegeta growled and took the glass from her and placed it on the tray of a passing robot. "I think you have had enough. You are quite relaxed and don't need any more intoxication." He ignored the pout directed at him and pulled her forward.

"What? Don't you ever drink alcohol?" she asked after a while.

He glanced at her and looked straight ahead again so all she could see was his angular profile. "No. I do not willingly take something that dulls my senses and slows my reflexes."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

"Hn."

The young man who had been sitting across from Bulma came over to them when he saw the two separated from the clusters of people milling about. He looked rather bashful but proceeded on anyway and held his hand out to Bulma. "Hello, Miss Brief, I'm Carl Milton, one of the new employees in the automotive branch."

Bulma took his hand despite her better judgment and tried to smile. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Milton. It's good to see some new blood in that department."

Vegeta growled when he saw the other man's gaze drift down the curve of her neck and into dangerous territory again. Carl's eyes shot up when he heard the strange sound, trying to locate its source. Bulma shot a sidelong glance of gratitude to the prince before continuing, "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce Prince Vegeta."

"P-Prince Vegeta? How do you know the Briefs?" Carl asked, shifting uncomfortably under the older man's disdainful gaze.

Vegeta sneered as he answered, "I have been working with the Briefs on a private military project. We have been doing business together for months."

Carl nodded dumbly. "Oh, I see. So, what kind of weapons are they developing for you?"

Vegeta smirked. "Weapons? Boy, I _am_ the weapon. They're developing training equipment for me."

Bulma decided that conversation had gone on long enough; if it continued Vegeta might say something that could get leaked to someone with a big mouth and no brain and there would be hell to pay for it. She laughed nervously and turned to Vegeta. "Oh, stop kidding around you big goof. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Milton," she said politely and dragged the saiyan away. "Would you be more careful about what you tell these people?" she hissed once they were far enough away not to be overheard.

"Yes, because what I said is _so_ much more likely to raise questions than you going around dropping my royal title." Vegeta rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Woman, I am really getting fed up with hiding who I am. I don't care if they know."

One side of Bulma's mouth turned down. "I just don't want too many people finding out. People might still remember the alien attack on East City and the battle that followed with you and Nappa. I don't want to spread panic in the populace and have the government knocking on my door wanting to put you in some sort of prison where they perform experiments on you."

He scoffed at her reasoning. "As if they could capture me. I could take the whole military out without breaking a sweat."

"That's not the point, Vegeta. I don't want you to have to hurt people because they're scared of you. It's not fair to you or to them."

His chest vibrated in a low irritated growl. "What is the point of living here if I cannot be _me?_ I have to pretend to be some foolish weakling human," he snapped. He was irritated enough to want to drive his point home, so he continued in a very low voice, "Do you want to know why I killed that village?"

Bulma's eyes widened almost comically as she gasped. The mention of his doing that still made her stomach tighten and she felt nauseous. Why had that come up? He had her attention. "Why, Vegeta?" she tried to sound casual.

"Because, Woman," his voice rumbled, "I feel caged. I am not permitted to be who and what I am on this pathetic mudball. I am a saiyan, Woman. An animal. Kakarrot cannot understand because he was raised as a human, but I am a true saiyan, and I cannot and will not live as a human. I still have my saiyan bloodlust, an innate need for battle, my _pride_. Will you take that away from me, Woman? Will you try to take all I have left?"

"I don't understand, Vegeta. I know that you're not a human and I get it that you need to fight and pride is super important to you. But what does that have to do with telling people what you are?" Bulma smiled as another couple bid her a good night. The crowd had thinned considerably and there were just a few stragglers behind. She was thankful that there were so few people so that she could have her private conversation with Vegeta out of anyone's earshot.

Vegeta sighed. The woman could be so dense sometimes. "What if I denied you your ability to invent and build things? What if I made you pretend you didn't have a brain in your head or if I made you cover your beauty? Or if I made you act like a dog?"

Bulma chewed on that idea for a while. "I guess I'd be pretty upset. I'd go crazy if I weren't able to do what I love doing. I'd feel like… I wouldn't feel like myself." She fell silent for a moment. "I could never be a dog, even if I wanted to be. I'd still be human and I would want everyone to know it. It would be degrading for someone to think I'm a dog."

Vegeta nodded. "Do you get it now? I don't want people to think I am a weakling human. As being a dog would be degrading to you, being a human is degrading to me. I am the prince of an elite warrior race. I am going to act like one and I don't want to hide it. Do not cage me into an identity that does not fit. Do not take away from me my pride and my passion. That is all I have left to call my own, Woman."

The last of the guests had filed out and Bulma was left alone with Vegeta in the banquet hall. It was mostly bare now since the servant robots had been hard at work cleaning up. The barrenness of the room felt oppressive, like they were forced to be somewhere with nothing to enjoy anymore. How Vegeta must feel.

Bulma frowned and leaned against his hard chest. "I understand, Vegeta, but that doesn't mean I can condone you going out and killing people or anything."

He pushed her away and held her by her arms, his intense scrutiny practically burning holes through her soul. "Have you listened to nothing I have said, Woman? I reacted against the bondage I felt as a result of being forced to live and act as a human. And I am warning you. It will happen again if you continue to deny my identity. Do not force me to save my pride if you don't want any more blood spilled."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" she snapped. "Go shout it from the mountaintops that I'm housing Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, the same alien who tried to destroy the earth a couple years ago and now he's more powerful than ever? But don't worry, he's on our side _for now_."

Vegeta rubbed his forehead and dragged his hand down across his face. He looked tired and annoyed. "Fine, Woman. Fuck trying to explain this to you, you just won't get what I am trying to tell you. Why don't you just fucking cut my tail off while you're trying to tame me?" As he suggested that he wrapped it tighter around his waist and glared at her so coldly she felt her blood turning to ice.

"Why would I want to do that? I'm not trying to _tame_ you, for Kami's sake!"

"You want me to be human," he spat. "You want me to be as human as that fool Kakarrot. You don't want me to be any more saiyan than he is. Well fuck you and your third class idiot. I am a _saiyan_, and if you won't let me be one then get me the fuck off this planet. I've played this charade long enough and I'm done." He shoved her roughly away from him and stormed off to his room to get out of another one of her chains: the tuxedo. He was furious with her and everything that was human at the moment.

From downstairs Bulma could hear his door slam shut and the walls rattled with the force. She cringed and awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest. 'What the hell just happened? He was fine one minute then he just snapped.'

Bulma stood alone in the banquet hall for several minutes running over their conversation over and over. He had hinted earlier that he didn't like hiding what he was. Had it really been bothering him that much?

_"Why must you take so many precautions to hide what I am? Are you ashamed of my race?" _His words echoed in her head and she felt a wave of guilt. _"Do not take away from me my pride and my passion. That is all I have left to call my own, Woman."_

'Oh, Kami. What have I been doing to him?' Bulma shook her head and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. 'I've been treating him like a human, expecting him to play the part. But he doesn't fit the mold and it's smothering him.'

Vegeta tore the tuxedo off as soon as he got into his room. He threw it on the floor and kicked it against the wall. He didn't care that he was throwing a temper tantrum; he was livid with the woman and he couldn't do anything about it. He collapsed to his knees and clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to reign in his fury. His body shook with the effort and his eyes clouded over, his tail lashing furiously behind him.

'That fucking bitch! She just doesn't fucking _get it! _I am not her pet. I am not some project for her. I will _not_ let her take from me what even Frieza did not.' He ran his hands over the soft carpet and grabbed it in his fists and yanked it up. The soft ripping sound soothed his anger and he tore at the carpet all around him until he could see clearly again.

He sat back on his feet and panted, his rage having sucked all the oxygen from his lungs. He sat still in the middle of a shredded mess of carpet and spots of bare hardwood floorboards. 'Kami damn it, I have got to get off this mudball.' He threw himself onto his back and stared accusingly at the ceiling, just another part of his prison. 'Who the fuck cares what people think of me? If they want to fear me, then fine. It would probably be in their best interest anyway. I am not a fucking actor, and I am not going to pretend to be what I am not any longer. I am the Prince of all Saiyans, damnit! If I can't even claim that then where is my pride? I will not hide!'

Vegeta roared with rage and sprang to his feet and stalked out to his balcony. He looked out at the city as he had done so many times before and leapt into a crouch on the rail. "I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, you plebeians. I am not one of you. I never will be. Get over it." His voice was deceptively calm as he spoke, knowing no one could hear him. He held his tail in his hands and gently stroked it from base to tip. "Yes, I have a tail. Why should I hide it from you? Are you scared because you don't have one? I don't care."

He let go of his tail and it wrapped around his waist loosely. He held his hand out, palm up, and formed a small, white ki ball. "You see this? It's my energy. I have enough to destroy your planet a thousand times over. Does that scare you? Then don't make me use it." He threw it into the sky where it hung above the city. His eyes turned red and his fangs elongated as thick fur began to grow all over his body and his veins throbbed as they filled his bulging muscles with power. His growl turned into a roar that shook the compound.

Vegeta's voice deepened and became more throaty as he transformed into the Oozaru. He jumped off the balcony before it crumbled under his weight and landed with a great thud in the yard of Capsule Corp. "You see this, you humans? I'm a giant ape who could destroy your city in the blink of an eye. Are you scared yet?" His voice came out as a ferocious growl.

Bulma felt the ground shaking and heard a deep, animalistic roar from outside. She threw her shoes off and ran as fast as she could out the back door of the compound and nearly fainted when she saw an Oozaru standing in her back yard. She heard its growling and after her initial shock wore off she could make out its words though they were unclear.

"I am hated across the universe because of what I am. So what difference does it make to me if you hate me too? Don't expect me to be like you." Vegeta opened his mouth and a red beam of energy shot out and collided with the fake moon glowing in the sky. The source of power for his transformation gone, Vegeta's hulking body shrank back down to its humanoid form. Bulma watched in horror at the changes his body underwent and wondered how anyone could survive such a drastic transformation.

And there he stood in her back yard, facing the city. His boxers had ripped off during the transformation and now he was nude. His tail dropped down between his legs and only twitched slightly. Bulma could tell he wasn't angry anymore, but she wasn't sure what he was feeling and it scared her.

"Go inside, Woman," his tired voice drifted across the yard to her.

Bulma flinched when his voice reached her ears and remembered belatedly that he could sense her ki. She nearly smacked herself in the forehead for forgetting. When she looked more closely she could see that he was breathing heavily and his body was covered in sweat. The transformation must have taken a lot out of him.

"Vegeta…"

He growled loudly and she could see his muscles tensing until he was strung so tightly she was afraid they would snap. "Tell me. Have you tried so hard to believe I'm human that you have forgotten what I really am? What I am capable of?"

Bulma sighed. "No, Vegeta, I know what you are. And as I've tried to tell you, I don't want to change that."

His fists clenched tightly. Bulma's heart skipped a beat as he looked ready to attack even though he wasn't even facing her. "Then why do you constantly deny it?" The tip of his tail flicked in agitation but the rest stayed rigid. "Just leave me, Woman."

Bulma's shoulders slumped as she gave him one last sorrowful glance before she turned and went back inside. When Vegeta heard the door shut behind her he flew back up to his balcony and went into his room. He threw his closet door open and pulled out his freshly cleaned navy blue bodysuit and pulled it on, the stretchy material clinging to his large muscles. He opted not to wear his breastplate but pulled his gloves and boots on and went back out onto his balcony. He wrapped his tail around his waist and took off again into the night sky.

_A/N: Uh oh, this doesn't look good, does it? I can't wait to post the next chapter. It just gets better and better…_

_Song: "Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_I want out, to live my life alone  
I want out, leave me be  
I want out, to do things on my own  
I want out, to live my life and to be free_

Bulma did not sleep well that night. Her thoughts kept drifting to the saiyan prince and all he had said to her. His anger had changed into something else after he left her in the banquet hall to ponder his words. When she ran outside and heard him speaking as an Oozaru, even his gravelly animalistic voice was unable to mask his bitterness. What had he said?

_"I am hated across the universe because of what I am. So what difference does it make to me if you hate me too?"_

She hadn't known who he was talking to; there was no one listening. She had only caught the tail end of something and she wished she had heard the rest so she could understand him better. Still, she heard the last part and she hated that she had. He might as well have been talking only to her. He thought she hated him for being a saiyan, that she was ashamed of him for it. Sometimes she feared him because he was a saiyan, but she didn't hate it.

So he had grouped her in with every other sentient being in the universe. They all hated saiyans so they automatically hated him. But that didn't bother him before and it wouldn't bother him now if everyone on the earth hated him too. Well, maybe it wouldn't bother him, but it would sure as hell bother _her._ She thought she was protecting him by keeping his race a secret.

Bulma turned over in bed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The bright red digits on her clock glared at her. 2:07AM. She groaned. She was never going to get to sleep at this rate. Why couldn't she ever do something right when it came to Vegeta? She lost more sleep over the man and what good did it ever do? He would stay mad or he wouldn't, but it never really mattered how much she thought about it or wanted to change what had happened. She hadn't heard any sounds from his room and figured he was asleep. She had even checked his balcony to see if he was out there brooding again. He wasn't there or in the yard.

The blue-haired woman sighed in frustration as time continued to pass and she was still awake regardless of how completely exhausted she was both mentally and physically. She put her arm over her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep, but it just wasn't happening.

Finally deciding she couldn't stand it anymore, Bulma got out of bed and walked out of her room and down the hall to Vegeta's room. She knocked on the door but didn't hear any response. She shrugged and opened the door. She poked her head in the room and looked around but didn't see him anywhere. His bathroom door was open and the light was off so he wasn't in there. She nudged the door open with her shoulder and went in, groping around in the dark. Her foot got caught in something and she fell forward, catching herself with her hands.

'What the heck is that?' She felt around the floor and instead of only feeling soft carpet, she felt wood and what seemed to be long strands of yarn. She shook her head and decided to worry about it later. She crawled around the bed, figuring it was safer than walking if strange things were going to trip her.

"Vegeta?"

She poked around at the mess of blankets and pillows on the floor but there was no saiyan buried in them. A breeze came in the balcony doors and blew the curtains, the motion catching her attention.

"Oh no."

Bulma scrambled to her feet again and ran out to the balcony, but the prince still wasn't there. She looked around the yard frantically and dashed back into his room and looked under the bed, in the closet, and in his shower, just to make sure he wasn't hiding. Her heart beat faster as she raced out of her room and downstairs to the kitchen. It was empty. The gravity room showed no signs of life. No response came from the indoor garden. No one was in the library. He was gone.

Vegeta flew over the city and sneered at the lights below as he resisted the flame of desire to destroy the life below him. He flew on and didn't stop for over half an hour. When he was above a desert he dropped out of the sky and started looking around. He wouldn't have been able to see anything had he not been a saiyan. The moonless, overcast sky blocked out the stars, his only source of light, but that didn't stop him.

'Where is it? It should be around here somewhere.' Vegeta took a step without watching where he was going and nearly fell into a deep crater. His arms and tail flailed for a second to help him regain his balance. He self-consciously checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Even though he was alone he could still feel blood rushing to his face.

Either way, he had found what he was searching for. He slid down into the bottom of the crater and walked to the middle. "There you are." Vegeta bent over and stepped inside the spherical object and pulled out a small control panel from the wall. He entered an activation code and a screen lit up above the controls.

Vegeta's eyes scanned over the strange symbols and he nodded his head once. "Good. There is still plenty of fuel." He punched in another code and more symbols scrawled across the screen. "And there's enough oxygen for over a year of travel in stasis mode." Vegeta's tail flicked behind him in anticipation. He sighed and looked outside of the space pod. "Is it worth it?"

That was a question Vegeta wished he hadn't asked himself once it left his mouth. What did he mean 'is it worth it?' Sure, he would miss out on training. He would leave behind the supposed only friend he ever had or probably ever would have. He would abandon a freely provided shelter, regular sufficient meals, and constantly updated training equipment. He would bow out of a promise he had made, shredding his honor. But what did it matter if no one were to know any better? He would be effectively giving up against Kakarrot, but why should he care if the fool dies anyway battling the androids?

'But I will be free to be me. Whoever I am. I am a saiyan, the last _true_ saiyan. I won't have to hide it anymore. I will, perhaps, regain my sanity. I will not be caged like an animal.' Vegeta sat down in the seat and held his head in his hands. 'I will be hated and feared wherever I go, but at least I will be respected. If not, I could get some good fights. I could conquer the universe and make it my own empire.'

He reached his hand out toward the controls, but it lingered in the air above, his uncertainty making him immobile. "If I go, I could always come back." His hand lowered a few inches. "If I go, I'm running away from my problems." His hand pulled back a little.

Vegeta growled and slammed his fists down on his legs. He couldn't understand what was holding him back. He didn't care about this stupid planet and he didn't care about having the blue-haired woman as his friend. He didn't want or need anyone to care about him. What he needed was bloodshed, chaos, power. He wanted others to fear him and tremble at the sound of his name. He could have everything he ever wanted if he left his prison. Here he had the key to unlock himself, and he was hesitating to use it.

"I gave my word that I would help defeat the androids. I have to defeat Kakarrot. But why? For my honor, my pride? Will I even _have_ it if I stay here any longer? If I stay or if I go I am going to lose it, so what difference does it make?"

Vegeta jumped out of the pod and circled around it, trying to convince himself he was just checking to make sure it was in good enough condition to fly. There was nothing wrong with it. He could take it anywhere within range and not have any malfunctions. He rested his elbows on top of it and leaned against it, his tail flicking from side to side.

'This should be an easy decision to make, so why am I just standing here?'

When Bulma couldn't find the saiyan prince anywhere in the compound, she went into a full blown panic. He had warned her that he might kill people again and she was deathly afraid that he had gone to do just that, if only to make his point. She was having a hard time breathing by the time she grabbed the cordless phone off its cradle and dialed the Son residence.

She nearly had a heart attack each time the phone rang. What if no one picked up? What if she couldn't get a hold of Goku before Vegeta did something terrible again? They wouldn't be able to wish them back for almost a whole year while the dragonballs recharged. And what if they needed them for something else? They couldn't just keep wishing back people who Vegeta killed. Finally, someone picked up on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" came an extremely groggy voice.

"Goku! Oh Kami, he's gone. I don't know what he's doing, you have to find him!" Bulma was yelling a mile a minute in her frantic state, not bothering to take a breath until she had spilled everything. "He warned me he might kill again, you have to stop him, please!"

"Bulma? What are you talking about?"

The blue-haired woman growled in exasperation and impatience. "Vegeta. He left the compound and he's really upset. I'm afraid he's going to kill people. You have to find him." She spoke as calmly and clearly as possible, but it was hard when her voice keep rising in pitch.

"Right, don't worry Bulma, I'll find him and bring him back." She heard a click as her childhood friend hung up the phone. She prayed to Kami that he wouldn't be too late if Vegeta had gone on another bloodthirsty excursion.

'If he kills any more innocent people I'll never forgive myself. If only I had known how he felt. Damnit! Why can't he open up a little more _before_ he's lost his mind?'

Bulma paced back and forth in the kitchen for a few minutes, chewing her lip and clenching her hands into fists. She was fighting back tears as she choked on the lump rising in her throat. She hated that feeling but she was feeling it pretty often lately, and it was always because of that damned saiyan!

Her legs wobbled beneath her as she paced and she realized again how tired she was. The clock on the microwave told her it was after three in the morning. She was exhausted but adrenaline was pumping through her veins and giving her energy to keep going even though her eyelids kept falling shut.

She shook her head to clear it and rubbed her temples. 'That saiyan is going to be the death of me. I swear it.'

Bulma leaned against the kitchen counter and remembered she was still holding the phone. She sighed and put it back in the cradle. She envied it for being able to rest while she was dying for sleep but too scared out of her mind to be able to rest.

"Damnit, Vegeta," she hissed, "Why do you do this to me? Why do you have to make me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet? I'm trying so hard to be your friend but it just doesn't work. Maybe if you'd tell me a damn thing about yourself I'd know how to reach you."

As she continued her rant she pulled out a chair from the table and fell into it. She propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. She scowled at its polished surface and hated it for being so clean, smooth, and perfect. Why couldn't her life be like that? Why couldn't things just work out for once? She sighed and shook her head again.

'Stop with the self pity, Bulma. Things probably aren't even as bad as you're imagining. He told you saiyans prefer nature, so maybe he just had to get away from the city for a while. Maybe he just went out to reassure himself of his saiyan identity.'

"Somehow I know something bad is going to come from this," she grumbled.

Vegeta ran his hand over the smooth surface of the space pod. There were a few small dents where it had hit space debris, but there was no significant damage. He looked at the palm of his hand and saw a coating of dirt on his white glove. He sighed.

'I should have left in this pod as soon as Kakarrot returned. Then I never would have formed any kind of attachment with that damned woman and I never would have made that stupid promise to defeat the androids. I could have destroyed the planet and killed the third class idiot along with it and been on my way to take the universe as mine.'

He rapped his fingers on the pod. The cool metal felt good against his hot flesh. The weather in the desert was probably sweltering hot in daylight, but its temperature dropped a great deal overnight. And so the wind cooled the metal space pod and absorbed the heat from his body.

"I should not even have to think about this. I should just go."

No matter what he told himself he could not simply up and leave. His honor bound him to the mudball, at least for now, and he wasn't ready to go against his own word. He jumped on top of the pod and sat down, his legs dangling over the open door.

He turned his face skyward and frowned. No stars were visible, which only made his decision harder. It made it all the more painfully obvious that he had nowhere else to go. But it also made him feel caged in again. He was at war with himself and he had no idea how the battle should end.

"Everyone in the universe except these foolish humans hates me. Why would I want to go back out there where I would always have to be on guard? Why would I go back out where everyone wants me dead? Here, no one cares if I live or die. 'Live and let live,' they say. But I don't want their ignorant acceptance. I want them to know _who_ I am, _what_ I am, and if they still don't fear me then so be it.

"I could just end my life right here. That would save me a hell of a lot of trouble. If I'm dead then it doesn't matter if I'm here or in the middle of space. But it leads to the same end: I have no honor. And if I don't have that then I truly have nothing. Nothing."

Vegeta frowned as another thought wormed its way into his brain. 'Would I really want to leave without my armor?' It didn't seem like much, and to anyone else it wouldn't have been very important at all, but it was one of the few possessions he could call his own. He didn't think of all the clothes or anything else the woman gave him as his. They were gifts that he did not earn or deserve and he could not return the favor. He came to this planet with only the clothes on his back, so they remained all that he had. He didn't want to leave that behind. The mangled armor was his badge of honor from his fight with Frieza. Much as he resented sentimentality, that breastplate meant a lot to him.

"I would at least have my life. No pride, no armor, maybe no sanity, but I would have my life, and with that my power. Do I need anything more?" Vegeta allowed that thought to permeate his entire consciousness for a while. "Of course I don't. I need to stop this sentimental foolishness. Damn it all!" He growled and brought his fists down on his legs for a second time that night.

Vegeta felt a familiar ki approaching and he cursed his misfortune. He didn't know how long he had been there, but it must have been long enough for the woman to notice and alert her hound. He snarled and slid off the space pod. 'Why can't that fool mind his own damned business?' He formed a ki ball and threw it at his visitor, who barely managed to dodge it.

'Well, the fool seems to be on his toes. Not that it matters. If he tries to interfere with me I'm going to crush his skull.'

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scowled as the younger saiyan landed in front of him. He didn't look happy about the greeting he received. "Well, if it isn't the third class trash, Kakarrot. What an unpleasant surprise."

Goku grinned and scratched the back of his head. "You don't mean that."

Vegeta rolled his eyes at the younger saiyan. He could be angry one second and cheerful the next. "What do you want?" he spat, already tired of Goku's foolishness.

"Bulma called me. She said you left the compound and you were mad about something, so I came to check up on you." Goku's expression turned serious as he finally took in his surroundings. They were in a desert and there were no humans – dead or alive – for miles around. His anxiety about Vegeta killing more innocent people faded but then he saw what had drawn the older saiyan to the middle of nowhere. A space pod. The same one he used to get home from Namek.

Vegeta's tail lashed angrily behind him a few times before it wrapped around his waist. He bared his teeth as he snapped, "Well you can tell the woman that her stray dog has run off and won't be returning home."

Goku's face went from serious to confused and he scratched his head again. "Huh? You're looking for a dog?"

"Please do not tell me you're that dense," Vegeta groaned. Another blank stare. "Forget it, Kakarrot. I know why she sent you out to get me. I'm not killing anyone, at least not on this Kamiforsaken planet." He turned his attention back to the space pod and rested his hand on it. Goku could tell he was deep in thought and didn't want to interrupt, but he was afraid he knew what was going on. And what was going on was not good.

"Vegeta. Why did you come here?"

Goku heard an irritated growl and saw the tip of Vegeta's tail flick in agitation. Without turning, Vegeta finally answered, "That is none of your concern, clown."

Red flashing lights and alarms sprung up in Goku's mind when he heard the older saiyan's response, and his tone certainly hadn't helped. He was distracted, maybe confused, but definitely dead set on something. It wasn't hard to figure out what. "You can't leave Earth!"

Vegeta snarled and rounded on the other saiyan. "And why the hell not, Kakarrot? What's keeping me from leaving? I have the means right here and I have no desire to stay on this mudball." His muscles tensed as he prepared to fight if necessary.

"You gave your word you would stay and defeat the androids. I thought you were above lying or breaking promises," Goku said matter-of-factly as he crossed his arms.

"Fool. This backwater planet is not my concern. Defend it yourself and leave me alone." Vegeta had made up his mind. There was no way he was going to stay on a planet where any of its inhabitants would act with such insolence. If he wasn't respected anyway then what difference did it make if he did not honor his word? No one should dare presume to know him or what he should or should not do. And no one should dare question his honor.

Vegeta crawled into the space pod and sat in the seat. He glared at the tailless saiyan as the pod's door closed and he punched in some coordinates. He could hear the fool yelling at him to reconsider, to stay and keep training and help fight the tin cans. But he wasn't listening and he didn't care about anything anyone had to say anyway. He just wanted to get the hell off the earth and hopefully never return. He'd be damned if he stayed longer.

"Vegeta, please, don't act so rash! Calm down and come out of there. I know you can hear me!" Goku yelled as he pounded his fists against the door of the pod. He could see through the window that Vegeta was ignoring him completely and he wasn't going to be able to get through to him. He considered breaking the space pod to keep the older saiyan from leaving, but he was afraid he might hurt him in the process, and even if it didn't, his actions might cost him more than he was willing to pay. "You can't do this, you're not a coward, come on!"

That got the prince's attention. Goku had never seen such a cold glare and he hoped he never would again. He felt like his body had frozen and shrunk to two inches tall and he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The withering glare only lasted a moment before Vegeta gave him a rude hand gesture as the space pod lifted off the ground. In just seconds it was gone.

Goku growled in frustration and kicked a nearby rock into orbit. "Damnit! Vegeta, what the hell am I supposed to tell Bulma? What is your _problem?_" He squatted and rubbed his forehead as he tried to think of the best way to break the news to his oldest friend. He figured all he could do was tell the truth. And maybe relay the message Vegeta gave him; perhaps she would know what he meant. He sighed long and hard and stood up again.

'This is not going to go over well. But it's time to face the music.' Goku blasted off into the sky towards Capsule Corp and tried not to think about the blue-haired woman's reaction to his news. Even when he pushed his apprehension to the back of his mind he still found himself flying slower than normal, but he couldn't bring himself to speed up.

It took him nearly an hour before he landed in the yard of the compound. He could see a light on in the kitchen and he knew that it would be the woman he needed to speak with. He looked at the sky, hoping against hope that he would see the telltale after-burn of the space pod returning to Earth, but the sky was dark and lifeless. 'Why did you leave me to do this?'

Goku strengthened his resolve and knocked on the front door before letting himself in. No one had come to meet him so he walked down the hall and opened the kitchen door. He peeked his head in and saw the blue-haired woman sitting at the kitchen table, her head resting on her arms. He could tell by her slow breathing that she was asleep and didn't have the heart to wake her up. After all, she hadn't slept at all earlier and she had experienced immense emotional stress because of the now absent saiyan prince.

'I'll just tell her in the morning,' he decided. Putting his fingers to his forehead, he gave Bulma one last sorrowful look before disappearing from her kitchen.

Bulma didn't wake up until her mother came downstairs to start breakfast. It was a little after 7:00 and she felt like she had been hit by a bus, so she wasn't too happy when her mother's overly cheerful, high-pitched voice penetrated her slumber-laden mind. She opened her eyes and yawned as she sat up in her chair and looked around, trying to remember where she was.

"Bulma, sweetie, what are you doing in here at this time of morning?" Mrs. Brief asked.

Bulma glanced at the clock and groaned. Now that she was more awake she figured she felt more like she had been hit by a train. "I was waiting for Vegeta to come back," she mumbled, her words slurred with grogginess.

Mrs. Brief raised her index finger to her chin and cocked her head. "But honey, why would he have left?"

The blue-haired woman looked at her mother and blinked a few times. She shook her head and pushed herself up from her seat. "Don't worry about it, Mom. I'm going to go to bed. Don't get me up for breakfast." She shuffled her feet across the cold linoleum floor and out of the kitchen to go get some sleep. Though she was worried about Vegeta, she couldn't keep her eyes open for the life of her and she couldn't be bothered to stay awake to wait on him or news from Goku.

'I wonder if he found Vegeta? I hope they didn't get in another fight. I'm tired of playing doctor with them.' Bulma yawned again when she reached her room and collapsed into her bed, instantly asleep when her head hit the pillow.

She only got two hours of fitful sleep before she was once again woken up, but this time it was by someone gently shaking her shoulders and calling her name softly. Bulma's eyes fluttered open and looked straight into wide black eyes. Innocent eyes. Definitely not Vegeta's.

"Goku?" her sleepy voice rasped, "What's wrong? Did you find Vegeta? Please don't tell me you had to beat him up." She rubbed her bloodshot eyes with the backs of her hands and sat up. She felt the mattress shift as a large weight joined her on the edge of the bed.

"I found him," Goku replied. The sad tone in his voice instantly threw any remaining sleep out of Bulma's system. "I didn't fight him. I wouldn't have had a chance if I'd wanted to."

Bulma tried to get her voice to work, but it wasn't happening. All she could do was stare at Goku with wide eyes and open and shut her mouth like a fish out of water. He wasn't even looking at her, so she could only see his profile. His eyes were downcast and the corner of his mouth was turned down. Something terrible had happened. She knew it.

"He was in the desert where I landed when I came back from Namek." Goku stopped and swallowed before he broke the news. "He left in the space pod I used. He's gone, Bulma."

Bulma's heart stopped beating. "What do you mean, he's gone? Where did he go? Why? Is he coming back?" Her voice returned with a vengeance as she spouted off questions faster than her poor friend could answer.

Goku shook his head slowly. "All he said was to tell you that your stray dog wasn't coming home. I don't know what he meant, but I thought maybe you might understand." He finally turned to face her and was shocked by the hurt and regret he saw in her expression.

"Oh my Kami," she mouthed, her voice less than a whisper. _"I am a saiyan, and if you won't let me be one then get me the fuck off this planet."_ His words quietly echoed through her head and she had to fight back tears that threatened to come again. He had been serious, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time since the spaceship he had used for his training was gone. But he knew of another way off the planet and he used it. He broke out of his cage.

"What's going on, Bulma? Do you know why he left?"

Bulma grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it hard as she nodded. "I just wanted to protect him," she sniffed. "I thought he would prefer no one knowing about him. Oh, Goku, I can't believe he's really gone!"

Goku pulled her close to him and let her cry into his shoulder as he rubbed her back. He had no idea how to console her, and he felt guilty that instead of really worrying about her feelings he was wondering if this meant Trunks would never come into existence in their time. "Don't worry, Bulma. He didn't say he wouldn't come back. You never know with him. But what do you mean you were protecting him? No one could hurt him."

"I mean I wanted the media and government and military and everyone to just leave him in peace. I knew everyone on Earth would freak out if they knew who he was or what he was so I tried to keep his identity hidden in any way I could. But he thought I was trying to hide what he was because I was ashamed of him for it and that I wanted him to be human." Bulma gathered Goku's gi in her hands and tried to bury herself in his body. She felt like she was dying inside.

Goku cocked his head. "Well, _do_ you want him to be human?"

Bulma's crying stopped immediately and she pushed herself away from Goku's shoulder so she could stare him in the face. "I – no! I don't want him to kill anymore, and… Ok I'll admit I've thought it would be easier if he were human, but that isn't the same, is it?"

"Maybe it is to him," Goku said, shrugging. "Well, I better go, Bulma." He hugged her and stood up from the bed. He waved as he disappeared out of her room.

As Vegeta exited Earth's atmosphere he exhaled slowly and sat back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. He entered in another code on the keypad and felt his vision blacking out as most of the oxygen drained from his body and was replaced with the gas that would hold his body in stasis for the duration of his voyage. It was just like sleeping.

_A/N: Thus starts my favorite part of the story! I know you might fail to see how I could possibly be excited about Vegeta leaving Earth, but you'll see…_

_Song: "I Want Out" by Helloween_


	21. Chapter 21

Warning: Rape.

Chapter 21

_Like the dead  
I am on the other side  
Their howling in my head  
No remorse and no redemption_

Bulma threw her socket wrench at the wall and yelled incoherently as her frustration skyrocketed. The repair she was trying to make on one of the older servant bots her mother had used for her monthly garden party was not going as well as she had hoped. She stomped her foot and glared at the broken robot. "You stupid piece of junk, why won't you just work?"

In actuality she had only been working on it for fifteen minutes, but her patience was thinner than usual. She had been more irascible than normal since her houseguest had abruptly taken his leave of the planet three months ago. Three months, two weeks, and four days, to be exact, but she wasn't counting. Really.

Bulma brushed some loose strands of hair from her face and rolled her shoulders back, trying to calm herself. She mentally counted to ten and forced herself to take a deep, soothing breath and exhaled slowly. But nothing was working. She was mad. Not just at the malfunctioning robot, but at everything. Her parents were avoiding her as much as possible since crossing her path had turned into a dangerous activity for their ears. Yamcha had not visited her in over two weeks and he never called anymore. Bulma knew that she had been treating everyone around her poorly, but she couldn't help herself. She had nothing to take her frustration and worry out on and she was beyond stressed.

'Damn Vegeta, if it weren't for him – no. I am not going to think about him anymore. He's gone and he's not coming back. Good riddance. He was rude and arrogant and scary. I'm glad he left and I hope he stays away from Earth forever.' Bulma began grinding her teeth, a new habit she was loathe to admit having, and sat down at the desk in her lab. 'I'm just irritable because I've been working too hard lately. Maybe I should take a break, go on vacation, or whatever. I haven't had much 'me' time for too long.'

She propped up her feet on the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's been about a year since that boy came from the future to warn us about the androids. And all the guys are busy training, but I don't have any way of helping them. They don't need me and don't have time to waste hanging out with me because I'm bored. And lonely." Bulma frowned when she said that out loud. By saying it she had finally admitted it to herself, and it wasn't comforting.

Bulma rubbed her temples and dropped her feet to the floor as she sat up. Self pity was not going to get her out of her funk, so she was just going to have to get over what had her so upset. The Prince of all Saiyans. He was more aggravating in his absence than he had ever been when he was following her around demanding repairs and upgrades for his training equipment.

"I just wish he would've said goodbye before he left."

Her words died as soon as they left her mouth and she slapped herself mentally for even thinking so foolishly. Vegeta was, above all else, not sentimental, and he would not feel any need to bid her farewell before journeying off into space to only Kami knows where and no one knew how long. She sighed and went upstairs. Her lab was just too bleak for her at the moment.

"Mom? Dad?" she called as she walked through the halls of the compound. She was met with silence and a cold wave of loneliness. They had gone off somewhere and left her behind. "Guess they don't want to be around me either," she said bitterly. Bulma went upstairs to go to her room and take a nap or at least relax, but her feet stopped when she was in front of the door to the vacant guest room. She hadn't been in there since Goku told her Vegeta left.

'Why not?' she asked herself as she pushed the door open and walked in. In the daylight she could see that the carpet was torn up, missing in some places, and shredded. So that was what she had gotten tripped up in when she was looking for him that night. She grumbled about his tendency to destroy everything in his path with no regard for her having to pay for it.

For reasons she could not give, Bulma opened the drawers of his dresser to see if his clothes were still there. 'Of course they are, stupid. Why would he pack earthling clothes to go to another planet?' One corner of Bulma's mouth turned down as she pushed the drawers shut. The force she used shook the whole thing and she heard something roll across the top and a small thud as whatever it was hit the floor. 'What was that?'

Bulma looked around on the floor around the dresser but didn't see anything, so it must have landed behind it. She shrugged and turned to continue exploring the room, but her curiosity grew the further she moved from the mystery object and she found herself turning back and pulling the dresser away from the wall.

"Why am I even doing this?" she asked the empty room as she peeked around the dresser, which she had only been able to move a few inches. The light hit something small and metallic just right to catch her eye. She knelt down on the floor and squeezed her arm between the wall and the dresser to reach whatever it was. Her hand closed around it and she pulled it out to examine it. Her heart dropped when she recognized it as the capsule of his motorcycle. "Well, it's not like he'd have any reason to take this with him," she reasoned. But it still hurt her.

She considered putting it in her pocket, but it just didn't feel right taking something she had given as a gift to the grumpy saiyan prince. So she set it on his night stand and walked over to his closet to see if he had taken anything. She stepped into the closet and started rifling through the hanging clothes when she saw something white and bronze hidden behind them.

Bulma pushed the clothes to the sides and got a better look at what was lying on top of an old chest. It was his breastplate. She raised her eyebrow and picked it up, surprised at how light it was. She had figured it was terribly heavy considering how durable it was, but that wasn't the case. It had clearly seen better days; there was a small, circular hole on the left breast and a larger hole in the stomach that looked like it had been caused by a strong impact judging by the cracks around it. 'I wonder what caused the damage to this?' She turned it over and saw there was a matching circular hole across from where the one on the breast was. Her eyes widened in horror and she dropped the armor on the floor.

"That was… that means he was…" Bulma couldn't bear to say the words, but she felt she needed to say it to believe it. She gulped and tried again. "That was how he died. Frieza shot him through the heart." It had been so easy to forget he had ever died since she hadn't seen it happen and never saw his dead body or him coming back to life on Namek. He had just appeared on Earth, looking pretty much exactly the same as he had when he fought Goku. "I really didn't know the first thing about you but I acted like I knew you as well as any of my other friends. I could never understand your damned pride, but I see now. It was what kept you going all those years and it was all that was with you when you died. And it's all you have now even though you've been given a new life. I was taking it away from you without even thinking about it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Bulma sank to the floor and picked up the armor again and held it on her lap. She traced her fingers around the small hole over and over in a daze. "You died for the sake of your pride. Your stupid, fucking pride, you arrogant jerk. You proud prince." Her harsh words were tainted with a fondness she hadn't known she felt for the saiyan.

Bulma looked around at the rest of the room Vegeta had stayed in for so many months. The bed was still there, still torn apart. She had never gotten around to taking it out or replacing it. And next to it, on the floor, was his large pile of pillows, blankets, and what appeared to be towels, rags, and other soft scraps of cloth. She smiled sadly at the mess and crawled over to it. "You crazy animal," she chuckled. She laid down in his nest and held his breastplate against her chest. His alien, masculine scent was heavy on his blankets and pillows, and it comforted her.

Vegeta's space pod landed on a green planet several times larger than Earth. It had been one of Frieza's military bases that the saiyan had visited a few times while in the tyrant's service. Oxygen filled the pod and woke Vegeta from his artificially induced slumber. He inhaled the life-giving air deeply and opened his eyes as the door to the pod opened. There was a hiss of steam when the airlock opened that was all too familiar to him. He stepped out of the pod and looked around warily. There were a dozen alien soldiers surrounding him with weapons raised. He smirked.

He took a few steps forward and the soldiers took a few steps back. The planet's gravity was fifty times greater than Earth's, which had made it difficult for him to move the last time he was there, but now it had no effect on him. In his brain he switched to Intergalactic Standard before he spoke to his reluctant welcoming committee. "Who is your leader, now that the Colds are dead?"

The alien who must have been the leader of the group narrowed his eyes angrily and replied, "Frieza and King Cold are dead, but Cooler still lives. He took over his brother's empire upon learning of his death. We serve Lord Cooler. And you, saiyan scum, have been condemned to death on sight."

Vegeta started chuckling, but it turned into a hearty laugh, which unnerved the men standing around him. "You fools think you can kill me? I'd like to see you try. I've gotten much stronger since Frieza murdered me." He laughed again when they looked like they were seeing a ghost. There was a trace of insanity in his laughter, and that put the soldiers more on edge. "Don't worry, I'm not dead now. Hell itself cannot hold the Prince of all Saiyans."

The leader of the soldiers spoke again, his voice shaking noticeably. "Why have you come here, saiyan?"

Vegeta raised his arm, palm facing out. "You ask too many questions," he growled as he blasted the alien into another dimension. The other men took off in different directions, fleeing their imminent death, but he sent ki blasts after each of them and they all joined their leader.

He smirked again and slapped his hands together as if cleansing of dirt. Then he casually strolled away from the landing base into the control tower. Whenever he saw someone he immediately blasted them, not even bothering to find out who they were or what their business was. He wouldn't take the chance of his arrival being announced to 'Lord Cooler' or anyone else who could give him trouble. He was there on a mission and he refused to have it interrupted.

The saiyan prince kept his ki suppressed, not only because he didn't want scouters alerting his presence, but he wanted to stay hidden from Kakarrot in case he were to seek out his ki and use his damned instant transmission to teleport to him and try to take him back to Earth. When he was sure that he had successfully eradicated the building of all life, he went outside and ran through a large city with a layout that indicated it had been built up haphazardly. It was night, so there was little light and few inhabitants in the streets. Vegeta avoided the few there were, figuring leaving a trail of dead bodies would blow his cover and have every soldier on the planet hot on his tail.

After running down streets, ducking through alleys, climbing fire escapes, and leaping across rooftops, Vegeta finally reached the building that had what he wanted. He levitated to a window on the third level and broke it. He flew in and scanned the room he was in. No one was around, probably all gone home for the night.

'Now, where would I be if I were a micro engineer's lab?' He strode down a long, dark hallway with metal doors lining the walls. Finally, he found what he was looking for and kicked the door in. It was time to get to work.

Bulma woke with a start and looked around the dark room. She couldn't remember where she was until she inhaled deeply and smelled saiyan musk. Oh, right, she had fallen asleep in Vegeta's room after she had laid down in his nest. She stretched out and looked up at the ceiling wondering how long she had slept. She could have been upset that she had taken such a long nap that would make it difficult to sleep that night, but she wasn't going to complain after getting the best sleep she had had in weeks.

'I should go see if Mom and Dad are home yet. I hope so because I'm starving.' Bulma stood up and stretched again with a yawn. 'Why did I even come in here? It just makes me miss that jerk more.'

Sighing, Bulma picked her way through the pile of pillows and crossed the room toward the door. She looked around the room one more time before closing the door behind her and going downstairs to get food. She was relieved when she smelled her mother's cooking coming from the kitchen; she really hadn't been looking forward to cooking for herself.

When she opened the door to the kitchen, she found her father sitting at the table reading a science magazine while her mother was pulling a roast out of the oven. Bulma's mouth started to water as she sat down at the table next to her father. "Hey Mom, hi Daddy," she greeted them with her first real smile in a long time.

"There you are, sweetie," Mrs. Brief chirped, "What have you been up to this afternoon?"

"I was working in the lab but I got tired so I went upstairs for a nap. I guess it was a little longer than I expected," Bulma answered as she pulled her father's magazine over so she could read it too.

"I'm glad you were able to sleep, dear. You've been looking so tired lately, I've been worried that you were getting sick."

Bulma smiled at her mother and shook her head. "No, not sick. Just haven't been able to sleep well."

Mrs. Brief set the roast on the table and went to fill a bowl with noodles. She was smiling wider than normal because of her daughter's good mood. It had been uncomfortable in the compound since the handsome young man had left. She figured it was because her daughter missed him so much. After all, he was so sweet. She thought he would have been a great catch for her daughter, but she hadn't said anything since Bulma wouldn't have listened.

The small family ate their meal and chatted about what they had done that day. It was pleasant for a change as Bulma wasn't wound up and ready to pounce on her parents over the smallest thing. What the elder Briefs didn't notice was how forlorn their daughter appeared when Mrs. Brief sat down at the table to begin the meal.

'It just isn't the same without him here. Even the amount of food we have at dinner reminds me of him being gone.' Bulma sighed and started eating, her sad thought forgotten when she immersed herself in conversation with her parents.

Vegeta tore through the laboratory searching for the tools and materials he needed. When he had finally gathered them all he dumped them on a desk and sat down to work, pulling a magnifying glass over his project so that he could see what he was doing. The mechanism he was building was tiny, smaller than a wristwatch, but the technology in it was extremely advanced.

He hunched over the desk and started piecing his invention together patiently. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked, never changing positions until he had completed the device hours later. He slipped it around his wrist and pushed a button on the side and immediately his body felt like it weighed over forty tons. He smirked and pushed another button and the heavy feeling lifted. "Perfect."

After dinner Bulma went upstairs to the recreation room to shoot some pool. The idea of going back to work in the lab did not rest well with her so she decided to spend the night relaxing. She would have gone outside for a walk but autumn was quickly fading into an early winter and she didn't feel like dealing with the cold. She picked up her cue stick and grabbed the rack of balls from the shelf and took them over to the pool table.

'Kami this reminds me of Vegeta,' she thought with some irritation. 'But what doesn't? My life revolved around him for months.'

Bulma sighed and broke the set. She watched the balls rolling around the table with mild fascination. They collided with each other and the cushions and bounced around in predictable movements. Occasionally one would fly out in a seemingly random direction and escape from the group of other balls. 'Like Vegeta. It interacts with others in the usual way but has a completely different reaction.' She groaned when she realized she was thinking about him again.

Bulma moved around the table shooting the balls into the pockets, which helped relax her as her mind was torn away from its brooding. She usually didn't play by herself, but at the time she didn't have anyone to play against, which didn't bother her. She wanted to be alone for now as she forced herself to come to terms with Vegeta's disappearance, her friends' busyness with training, and the prospect of the androids coming into a world with only one super saiyan. She had been stressed over all of the above problems for too long in her opinion and she was ready to get over it. By the time all the balls had sunk into the pockets, she was feeling better.

"Just because they need to train doesn't mean they can't stop to have fun every now and then. Look at me, I've been so busy working in the lab that I haven't had any time for myself. I was going crazy. I need to take some time to unwind. They probably need the same thing. Maybe I should invite the guys over for a party." Bulma smiled at her idea and set up the rack again. "I could have it in a couple days. It'll be a lot of fun."

She broke the rack again and went through another solitary game of pool. When the last ball rolled into a pocket she put away her cue stick and the balls. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and started calling her friends. Even if not all of them could come she was determined to have the party anyway. Even if only _one _of them could come she'd do it!

Three phone calls later Bulma was absolutely beaming. Yamcha, Goku and his family, Krillin, and Master Roshi were all going to come to the party. Goku was going to go talk to Tien and Chiaotzu since they didn't have phones or any other way of communicating with the outside world where they trained. Lunch might have, but Bulma didn't know her number since it changed so many times because of her blonde persona getting into trouble with the law all the time. Maybe she was with Tien again and he would bring her. Bulma shrugged and sat on the couch and turned the TV on to watch whatever late night movie was playing.

As the movie played, Bulma stretched out on the couch and let her mind wander. The movie wasn't particularly interesting anyway. At first she started planning the party, deciding where she would have it in the compound, what food she would have, how much food to order to make sure Goku and Gohan would have enough, what music to play, etc. But it didn't take her long to sort all that out and she once again started to think about the saiyan prince.

'I wonder where in the universe he is. He could be anywhere doing Kami knows what. I just hope he isn't getting into trouble again.' She shook her head and focused on the movie. That was a thought she did _not_ want to entertain.

Vegeta stood up and stalked out of the lab he had spent so much time in. It went against his nature to stay in one place on a hostile planet for so long, but that was where the resources he needed were; that was the entire point of coming to this planet, it had the best technology. When he was in the hall he felt a low ki approaching him. He shrank into the shadows and crept down the hall and around a corner to wait for the person.

He waited a minute before the person came into view. It was a woman, shorter than him and slender. Her skin was deep brown, almost black, and she had pale pink eyes and a flash of short magenta hair. She wasn't terribly attractive despite her exotic coloring, as she lacked a very feminine physique for her otherwise humanoid shape. She was wearing a light gray lab coat over a plain, dark gray dress. But Vegeta was only paying attention to the communication device she was holding in her hand and the way she was cautiously looking around.

'Damn! Someone must have found the broken window and sent people out to search for the intruder. Oh well, more fun for me.' Vegeta stepped out of the shadows when she was only a foot away from him.

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin and shrieked as her eyes widened in fear and she backed against the wall behind her. The communicator dropped to the floor and Vegeta promptly stepped on it, applying pressure slowly until it shattered beneath his foot. All the while he kept his black eyes fixed on the woman and smirked at her, showing his long canine.

"Who are you?" she whimpered when he moved toward her. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to curl up to protect herself from the wild man. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling from head to foot. Vegeta sniffed the air and smirked wider when he smelled the terror coming off her in waves.

He put his arms on either side of her and braced himself against the wall, leaning in so his face was only inches from hers. "You may have heard of me, wench. I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans." His tongue flicked over his canines when he saw her terror increase.

"V-Vegeta? But he's dead!" she whispered.

"Not anymore. I was dead, but now I'm alive. Unfortunately for you." He moved closer to her and pressed his body against hers, his eyebrow raising suggestively. The woman seemed to take the hint and started pounding her tiny fists against his chest and screaming for help. But he pressed himself tighter against her and crushed his mouth against hers to silence her. He felt her heavy breathing and ripped her lab coat off. He pulled back to tear her dress off as well.

"Please don't do this," she whimpered, trying desperately to stop him from going through with what he was planning. No dice. He had made up his mind and nothing could stop him.

He grabbed her hair roughly and tilted her head so he could whisper in her ear, "If you scream, I will kill you in the slowest, most painful way I know how." He watched as she gulped and nodded her head. He had to give her credit for holding back her tears, but that wasn't going to save her. He spread her legs with his knee and thrust into her.

The pink-eyed woman watched as her mind detached from her body as she was brutally raped. The saiyan's eyes were glazed over with madness, his lip curled in a feral snarl. She was petrified of him, but she didn't scream or even whimper through it all. She hoped that it was all a nightmare, a terrible nightmare where a beast from hell attacked her, but she knew it wasn't so. He was too real: she could feel him, see him, smell him, hear him.

When he finished his business he shoved her to the floor and pulled his pants back up. The insanity never left his eyes as he raised his hand and blasted her body to oblivion. An evil, toothy grin spread across his face when he sniffed the scent of burnt flesh mingled with forced sex and fear.

"At last, I have my life back," he said. His cold laughter echoed in the halls.

Bulma was fussing in the indoor garden over the tables filled with the catering she had just picked up. Everything else was in order and her guests would be arriving any time now. She was growing increasingly excited about seeing the whole gang again and she had all but forgotten the foul mood she had been in for the past few months. It was time to party, and she was going to have a blast. A few minutes later the doorbell rang and she ran down the hall to answer the door.

"Krillin!" Bulma screamed in joy as she hugged the bald monk. "Hey, Master Roshi, Oolong, Turtle. How are you all?" Her beaming smile was infectious and by the time she had led them to the indoor garden they were all smiling as brightly as her and joking around merrily. Bulma had to smack Master Roshi's roaming hands a couple times, but that was expected and only slightly annoying. If anything it had become a friendly routine.

Bulma ran to the door again when the doorbell rang its cheerful tune and ushered the Son family plus Piccolo in the door. Soon after Yamcha arrived along with Tien and Chiaotzu. It was beginning to feel like old times when she had them all gathered in the indoor garden with the music blaring, loud laughter, and ChiChi screaming at Goku to eat slower.

Bulma sat in a lawn chair next to Tien and Krillin and started talking to them about how their training was going. She hadn't seen either of them since the day Vegeta had ascended to super saiyan and she was dying to catch up with them. It wasn't long before Gohan joined their small group.

"So you've been training with Piccolo and your dad?" she asked Gohan.

"Yeah, it's been really great. I'm not letting them go easy on me and I'm getting a lot stronger, I think. Mom doesn't like how beat up I get sometimes, but I don't mind." Gohan blushed a little when he expressed his attitude toward his mother's fretting.

Krillin laughed and slapped his young companion on the back. "Don't worry about that, kid. ChiChi would worry if you came home with a broken nail." He grinned wide and barely dodged a frying pan thrown at his head. How it materialized out of thin air, no one knew.

Gohan laughed at his friend's near demise. "Yeah, I know. She wants me to stay home all day and study. Don't tell her, but I'd rather train any day."

Master Roshi, Oolong, and Turtle soon joined their little group and joined in their conversation. It really had been a long time since they had all been together and they found there was a lot to talk about, and not all of it revolved around the android threat.

Everyone was in high spirits, talking, eating, and laughing the afternoon away. Bulma was glad that she had decided to invite everyone over. She had been alone for so long that she had almost forgotten how much fun it could be to get everyone together. Her friends put her at ease and lifted the stress from her mind, if only for a little while.

As it got later, the conversations started to die down as talking was replaced with yawning. Bulma could see how tired her friends were getting, which didn't surprise her considering how hard they all worked all the time. They were mostly early risers so they were used to going to bed early too. Piccolo was busy meditating in the corner, Gohan was asleep on ChiChi's lap, Oolong was out for the count, and Master Roshi had fallen asleep in his chair. She sighed, knowing it was about time to end the party. But she didn't want to kick her friends out.

"Hey guys, it's getting late, so why don't you stay the night? You wouldn't get any more training in tonight anyway."

ChiChi perked up at the offer. "Oh, Bulma, we wouldn't want to put you out. Goku could just IT everyone back home."

Bulma shook her head. "No, I insist. It's really no trouble, I have plenty of guest rooms." Everyone agreed to her offer and she led them upstairs to show them their rooms.

When all her friends had retired, Bulma went to her own room to change into her pajamas and catch some shut-eye. She laid in her bed for a long time before she gave up trying to sleep. She was tired, but for some reason couldn't seem to get comfortable. She slid out of bed and went to the door. Checking the hall for any late-night roamers, she slipped out of her room and tiptoed down the hall to Vegeta's old room.

Bulma closed the door quietly behind her and padded over to his nest. She didn't want to sleep in it again since she had her own bed, but that didn't mean she couldn't take some comfort from it. She saw that she had left his breastplate lying on the floor and put it away in the closet exactly as she had found it. Then she picked up one of the pillows from the floor and held it to her nose. She could smell the saiyan on it and smiled. Her human olfactory may not have been as strong as the saiyan's, but his odor was strong and distinct. And she loved it.

Carrying the pillow with her, Bulma crept back to her room and got back in bed. She curled around the Vegeta-scented pillow and fell asleep shortly after. She dreamed of days gone by with the saiyan prince and smiled in her sleep at the fond memories.

When Vegeta had disposed of the pink-eyed woman, he ran through the halls and leaped out the broken window, landing silently on the ground below. He could see lights moving around in the building and knew they were searching for him. He smirked and ran down the street back toward the space base where his pod was waiting for his return. On his way he killed anyone and everyone he saw, no longer worried about being found.

He took off in his space pod and stopped at the top of the atmosphere and stepped out on the open door of the space pod. He raised his hand to form a ki ball large enough to destroy the planet, but for some reason he hesitated. The people below were once part of Frieza's army and now they worked for Cooler, so they didn't deserve to live, did they? Vegeta frowned and lowered his hand.

'I was also Frieza's soldier, so I can't hold that against them. And when Cooler took over they surely had no choice but to join him or die. I might have done the same. Their pathetic existence should be ended, but it is not my place to do so.' He sighed and ran his hand through his flame of hair. 'Why I should care I don't know.' He shrugged and stepped back into the space pod and entered coordinates to another planet before entering his coma-like state.

Five weeks later Vegeta's space pod crashed into a thick forest on an uninhabited planet. There was lush vegetation, plenty of water, a tropical climate, and lots of wildlife, but no sentient species had ever evolved. It was a planet that Vegeta had crash landed on one time as a teenager and had never forgotten. Frieza did not know about it and so it remained a secret hideout, if only in his dreams. Its seclusion was what he desired now.

When the pod's door opened with another hiss of steam, Vegeta stepped out into the muggy air and sniffed the alien scents. He had not eaten for almost five months, and despite being held in stasis, his body was ready for nourishment. He could smell some exotic fruit nearby and headed toward it, his mouth watering.

Vegeta found himself under a tall tree with branches bearing round, yellow fruit the size of basketballs with pointy spikes coating the hard exteriors. He climbed the trunk of the tree and grabbed the lowest branch when he reached it and crawled along its length. He reached down to pluck a fruit from the tree, but one of the spikes jabbed into his hand. He hissed in pain as he felt a small trickle of blood worming its way down his fingers.

More carefully this time, he got a firm grip on the fruit and pulled until it finally gave up its resistance. He banged the fruit hard against the branch until it broke open, revealing a soft interior with the texture of chocolate mousse. He lifted one half of the fruit to his face and licked some of the flesh out of the shell. His tongue was assaulted with an indescribable tangy sweetness. It was far superior to any fruit he had tasted on any other planet and he quickly scooped the rest of the flesh out and ate it. Soon he was cracking more fruit open and had to move on to another branch to get more to satisfy his hunger.

He finally finished his meal and sat on a high branch and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He crossed his arms over his chest and let one leg dangle off the branch as he closed his eyes for a midday nap.

Vegeta awoke abruptly as some kind of earthquake shook him from the branch of the tree. His eyes snapped open as his tail wrapped around the branch to catch him before he fell. He looked around in alarm, stretching his ki sense out as far as he could in case he had been followed by someone with a high power level. He could not sense anyone, but he sniffed the air and listened carefully for any other indication of an enemy.

The ground shook again and as the tree quivered Vegeta flailed from side to side as he hung by his tail. There was an unfamiliar scent in the air now, but it was wild and animalistic. Vegeta inhaled deeply and a feral grin formed on his face.

'I'm having meat for dinner,' he thought as he dropped to the ground and ran through the forest toward the epicenter of the quake. Within minutes an enormous tan furry hide came into view. An animal over twenty feet tall with four stocky legs, a short neck, and a large, round head with a flat, ugly face took another ground-shaking step in his direction. The creature had wide orange-golden eyes and its jagged bottom teeth jutted out below its snout-like nose.

Vegeta did not fear the animal despite its grotesque appearance and incredible size, but he almost panicked when he saw the creature almost stepping on his space pod. Its weight would surely destroy the pod, or at last damage it enough to render it unusable and then he would be stranded on this planet forever. "Oh no you don't you fucking big-footed abomination!" he roared as he shot into the air and slammed into its side, knocking it off its feet and away from his space pod.

The animal howled in pain and struggled back to its feet, large eyes blazing mad as it looked for its attacker. Vegeta clenched his fists and flew toward it again and slammed into its jaw from below, snapping its neck backward. Once he was above it he cupped his hands at his side and a purple glow emanated from them. He grinned again as the animal writhed in pain.

"Galick gun!" The violet beam of light shot down at the beast's head, lobbing it off and sending its bloody body crashing back into the trees.

Vegeta floated back down to the ground and strolled casually over to his kill through the bloody mud of the forest floor. When he reached the body he formed a long ki blade and sliced the animal's abdomen open, spilling its entrails out on the ground as he walked the length of the body, blade never leaving the body. The stench of fresh blood filled Vegeta's nostrils and his stomach growled in anticipation.

He grabbed the skin of the animal and jumped on top of the body, ripping the animal's hide off with the force of his momentum, revealing the steaming red flesh. He shortened his ki blade to the length of a knife and used it to cut out bloody chunks of meat he didn't bother cooking before stuffing them in his mouth. When he had had his fill, he dissipated the blade and laid down in the soft fur of the giant beast and slept, the curled tip of his tail thumping against his leg in contentment.

His last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of blood, chaos, power, and mayhem. The screams resounding in his mind sang him an eerie saiyan lullaby of death and destruction only he could appreciate.

_A/N: Ok, now before you complain about Vegeta's character portrayal, let me set the record straight. At this point in the story he hasn't really changed that much from what he was before he came to Earth. What little change he has made is easily discarded in favor of regressing to his previous lifestyle because it is what he knows. It is comfortable and he mistakenly believes that is the life of an honorable warrior. So yes, he kills and rapes without remorse (for now). Trust me, this is an extremely important thing for me to show at this point in time. I am not a particular fan of Vegeta being a rapist, but face it. He was cruel, had no conscience, and was raised in an environment where murder and rape were probably common occurrences. I don't believe he wouldn't have been influenced by that._

_Song: "Ghost Opera" by Kamelot … Just thought I'd throw it out there that they're my favorite band. You should check them out. :)_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

_And maybe chance is all played out  
__And a better man would have figured how  
__To finally understand and turn around  
__But my better man, I'm a better man_

_The bright sunlight danced across his face through the sheer curtains waving in the gentle breeze of springtime. His eyes cracked open and looked around his surroundings without fear of discovering a threat. He pushed a blanket from his body and stood up, his tail flicking behind him as he stretched._

_ Vegeta walked through the brilliantly lit room and pulled open a drawer where he found a pair of black shorts. He pulled the shorts on, followed by socks and a pair of black cross trainers. He opened the door to the room and walked down a hall to a stairway that led down. There was an enticing aroma of food spicing the air and his stomach growled._

_ He descended the stairs and walked down another hall until he reached a door behind which he heard voices and pots and pans clanging as food was prepared. He pushed the door open and walked in. There was a table at one end of the room with several chairs around it, one of which was occupied by a beautiful woman with long cerulean hair and sparkling azure eyes he could drown in if he looked into them too long._

_ When he walked toward her, her gaze moved up to meet him, but her impossibly blue eyes widened in horror and she screamed, rising from her seat and pressing herself against the wall behind her. Vegeta cocked his head at the display of fear and took another step toward her. He reached out to her but he saw his hand was covered in blood._

_ Confused, he looked down at himself and saw he was no longer wearing his training shorts, but instead his blue bodysuit, white boots, and white gloves. And he was splattered with blood and gore. He looked back up at the blue-haired woman but her long tresses were now short, magenta locks and her oceanic eyes were pale pink. Her ivory skin had darkened to ebony and she trembled in fear._

_ "What did you do with her?" he demanded harshly. The human woman had been there just a moment ago, but now all he saw was the pitiful alien from Frieza's old base planet._

_ The woman whimpered and cowered before him, but he took no pleasure in her fear. He was disgusted with her, disgusted with himself for scaring the blue-haired woman away. And for perhaps the first time in his life, he felt regret._

Vegeta gasped as he sat up and opened his eyes. He looked around and saw only a thick forest around him and the remains of the animal he had killed several days ago. He shook his head and rubbed his temples. 'What a bizarre dream,' he thought. He noticed the tight feeling in his chest had not diminished even as the haze of sleep faded from his consciousness. Regret? For what? He didn't understand.

Finally, he dismissed the strange emotion and stood up. The orange sun was rising on the horizon and he knew it was time to get up and start training. He didn't know why he felt the need to continue his training since he was no longer on the humans' mudball, but he couldn't think of anything better to do with his time. That was why he had stopped on the last planet to build himself a gravity simulator he could wear on his person that would only affect him. He had taken the technology he learned on Earth and reduced its size over one hundred times and made it more efficient in the process.

Perhaps he was still training with increased gravity because his body craved the activity. As a full-blooded saiyan he did need extensive exercise, and now that he had grown so greatly in power he required unbelievably harsh conditions to attain the level of activity he needed to relieve the tension his body felt when it was at rest for too long. And so he had spent the past week on the lush planet training the long days away and sleeping restlessly through the short nights.

The saiyan walked to a nearby stream of fresh water and cupped his hands in it to draw water to his dry mouth and cool his parched throat. Once his thirst was sated, he splashed water on his face and in his hair and shook it out. Fully awake now, he walked to the clearing he had made in the forest and began his daily training regimen. He was now training under 500Gs in his base state and over 600 as a super saiyan.

The alien vegetation and animals seemed to be doing his body good nutritionally. He was full of energy despite his poor sleep and he didn't need as much food as he had expected because it took him longer to become hungry again after meals. The fruits must have been packed with calories and vitamins his body thrived on, making gains in his training come faster and in greater leaps and bounds than he had ever experienced before. He didn't need to get severely injured for a noticeable difference in his power from one day to the next.

Vegeta was now able to maintain his ascended form for over eight hours straight and the time just kept getting longer each day. He was very pleased with his progress, but he was never content to take a break from his training regardless of how powerful he became. His time alone had allowed him plenty of time to think and he had decided that he would, in fact, return to the planet Earth before the androids came. He would defeat them as he said he would, and then he would defeat that fool Kakarrot. He would keep his word, regain his honor, and be free to roam the universe afterwards doing what he had always dreamed of: conquering worlds and building an unbeatable empire. Thoughts of battle invigorating him, he threw himself whole-heartedly into his training with renewed determination to become and remain the strongest warrior alive.

As he kicked and punched at the air around him, Vegeta's mind began to drift back to the dream he had. He had never felt such a strange sensation as he had when he realized that the blue-haired woman had gone, and it was his fault that she left. He was covered in the lifeblood of all the helpless people he had killed, both on her planet and on the one where he stopped several weeks ago. She had been replaced by the magenta-haired female and it revolted him. But what was the feeling all that evoked? The tightness in his chest, the desire to take back what he had done?

"Why am I thinking about that foolish woman again?" he asked himself after he found himself standing in the middle of the clearing, unmoving. "Thoughts of her have been invading my mind more than ever and I can't stop them." He shook his head in an effort to rid himself of her memory.

"I should not concern myself with her. She hates me, she hates what I am, and I will not forgive her for that. She tried to steal my pride, desecrate my honor, worm her way into my life, and be my what? My master? She called herself a friend and yet she was taming me, making me go soft, making me pretend to be human. Must I always be someone's slave?

"Even here, hundreds of light-years away, she haunts me, makes me feel things I have never experienced before and would prefer to never feel again. I should not be inflicted with foolish emotions! They are for the weak. She humiliated me daily in a way even Frieza could never stoop to. Denying me my race. Foolish woman."

Vegeta scoffed and leapt into the air to start another round with an invisible opponent. He shut out any thoughts related to Earth and focused again on his training, his mind leaving his body as he entered into another long-ended battle from years ago.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Bulma was visiting the Son residence. Winter had finally struck and a thick layer of snow coated the ground of Mount Paozu. Bulma and ChiChi were sitting in the kitchen talking over a cup of jasmine tea while the men were out training. The blue-haired woman had cheered up considerably after her party and only occasionally had thoughts of the flame-haired saiyan that had been gone for almost five months.

"I just wish Goku would ease up on his training," ChiChi was saying to her captive audience, "He barely gives Gohan any time for his studies. I'm worried that his grades are slipping."

Bulma nodded and sipped her tea as she looked out the window to the white world outside. "You know, if Gohan needs help with math or science, I would be happy to tutor him."

"Really? You mean it, B?" ChiChi asked, her smile infecting the other woman. "I would really appreciate it, you know. If he falls behind now then it'll be so hard for him to catch up again. I just want him to get into a good school and become a respectable scholar."

"Sure, ChiChi. Just give me a call if he needs help."

"Oh, thank you, Bulma! You're the best. I know you're busy but he's hardly any trouble at all, and a fast learner, you know."

Bulma took another sip of her tea and asked, "So how is it, living with someone training for the androids? I've nearly forgotten the thrill," she added sarcastically.

ChiChi frowned slightly. It was obvious that her friend was still somewhat bitter about that rotten Vegeta up and leaving the planet without so much as a goodbye, but she couldn't for the life of her understand why she would be upset about his absence. If it were her, she would be jumping and singing for joy. Still, she recognized loneliness when she saw it, and that's what kept her from making any derogatory remarks about the missing saiyan. "Oh, you know, the same as always, I suppose. The boys leave in the morning after eating a huge breakfast, come back for lunch, train all afternoon, come back in the evening and dump their dirty clothes on me, take a nice hot bath I started for them, and then eat a huge dinner I spent all day cooking." ChiChi sighed and followed the blue-haired woman's gaze out the window. "I really can't complain though. Gohan _has_ at least been trying to study on top of it all and I know Goku has to save the world again."

Bulma chuckled at the brunette's change in attitude over the past few months. She had been hopping mad when Goku suggested Gohan train with him and Piccolo, but now she seemed to have accepted it as necessary for the sake of the world. "I know what you mean. I hardly see Yamcha anymore since he's finally decided to take his training seriously. He pretty much squandered the first year away so he's trying to make up for lost time." Bulma sighed and continued, "I just feel so useless, you know? I'm really no help in any of this."

They were still talking when Gohan and Goku walked in the door, pulling their training clothes off to get ready for their bath. "Oh hey, Bulma!" Goku greeted and gave an enthusiastic wave. "What's up? Have you heard from Vegeta?"

ChiChi smacked her forehead at her husband's insensitivity as Bulma's face fell and she turned her gaze to the steaming cup of tea in her hand. "No, Goku, nothing. I don't think he's going to come back."

Goku scratched the back of his head and looked quite perplexed. "But he has to come back. He gave his word that he would help with the androids and one thing I do know about him is that he wouldn't say something like that and then not do it. Pride and honor are everything to him." Inside Goku was starting to question his own faith in the prince's trustworthiness. It had been a long time since he left and had given no indication that he would ever return. Vegeta was already pushing his luck with Bulma by being gone for so long, so the chances of them getting together at the right time were dwindling every day he stayed away. If only he could find the older saiyan and get him to come back for Trunks' sake!

ChiChi snorted at her husband's naïve trust in the prince. She had never trusted him as far as she could throw him and he had finally shown his true colors when he ran away like the coward she knew he was. "Goku, don't even bother saying that. You know he ran away and he's not coming back. And I say good riddance; that man was nothing but trouble."

Bulma frowned and swirled the tea around in her cup, mesmerizing herself with the small whirlpool it caused. "He wasn't so bad, ChiChi."

The younger woman looked at her friend as if she had grown a second head. "Not so bad? Are you kidding me? He was a crazy murderer!"

Goku could see that Bulma was uncomfortable with being reminded of his violent nature, but there wasn't any way he could get ChiChi to stop her tirade once it started. And so he ushered Gohan out of the kitchen to go bathe while the women sat in the kitchen, probably arguing about Vegeta's virtues or lack thereof. It pleased him that Bulma would still defend him even though he had deeply hurt her by leaving, but at the same time it stirred some resentment in his heart for the cold prince. He didn't like anyone hurting Bulma, and Vegeta had done that and would most likely continue to do so even if he came back to Earth. Even so, he wanted Trunks to be born.

While Goku was playing with Gohan in the steaming barrel of hot water outside, he was hatching a plan to bring the saiyan prince back before it was too late for Trunks. He had noticed that he could feel Vegeta's incredible ki from a very distant place sometimes, and it grew each day. He was amazed that his ki could be felt from another planet somewhere in the galaxy, but he was glad that he could because if he wanted to, he could hone in on it and use instant transmission to reach him. So that was what he planned to do: instant transmit to Vegeta's location and try to talk him into returning to Earth. If that didn't work, grab him and go before he could break free. He was sure there would be serious repercussions, but he pushed them to the back of his mind in favor of thoughts about Trunks and a happier Bulma.

Bulma left the Sons' a while later to return home for dinner. She bid her friends goodbye and took off in her small jet. As she flew she tried not to remember the way ChiChi had talked about her former houseguest. She had been his friend, and as such saw a side of him that he kept hidden from everyone else. There was so much more to him than met the eye, a man broken and hurting who wanted acceptance and a better life, even if he would never admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. She had seen his emotions that he hardly ever showed: sorrow, grief, loneliness. She had seen him weep for the life he could have had, his lost race, his destroyed home. She saw a prince who was not so much arrogant as proud, which he had every right to be. He had survived more than anyone could imagine and come out with his sanity – most of the time. He was strong, and not just in power level. He had honor that meant everything to him, and that was why he had left, not out of fear of the androids or any other threat. He had to preserve what he had fought so hard to retain despite his slave status under Frieza. So, regardless of what anyone could say, Bulma knew that Vegeta was a great man with the potential to be even greater.

Vegeta dropped out of his super saiyan form and lowered himself to the ground a hundred feet below. He was sweating and panting, hungry and thirsty, and _tired_. He had finished his training for the day, having spent nine straight hours as a super saiyan at 650Gs. When his feet touched land he wiped the sweat from his brow and sniffed the air to scent any nearby prey. His tongue flicked over his canines when he smelled a deer-like animal that could not have been more than a fawn. Its scent was young, energetic, and tender. Just what the exhausted saiyan needed. His tail twitched behind him as he silently picked his way through the thick ground vegetation until he spotted the small creature – his next meal. He waited for it to come closer before he pounced on it and wrestled it to the ground, sinking his teeth into its throat.

After a short struggle the animal was dead, Vegeta was coated in its blood, and he was tearing its warm, soft muscles from its bones and stuffing them in his mouth. He broke the bones and sucked the marrow from them when he had finished off the meat and some of the choice innards such as the heart and liver.

"It just wasn't your day, little one," he said as he spit out a fragment of bone and stood up. "But your sacrifice was not in vain." Vegeta blasted the rest of the remains, which was little more than hair, bones, teeth, and entrails, to avoid attracting unwanted predators or scavengers. He went to find one of the myriad streams that cut through the forest like arteries carrying precious clean water to the plants and animals.

When he found a stream, he stripped his clothes off and dipped himself in the water for a refreshing swim, gulping at the deliciously cool fluid and washing off the sweat and grime that had accumulated throughout the day. He pulled himself onto the grassy bank of the stream and washed his clothes of the thick blood and dirt that had built up over the past few days. Cleanliness was not his top priority when he was living off the land, but every now and then his anal military standards for orderliness bothered him enough to wash up.

Vegeta laid his clothes out on the bank next to him to dry and laid back in the soft blue-green grass, his arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed to the sun's rays shimmering through the dense foliage waving in the gentle wind above. It was peaceful here; no predators bothered him, and if they did he would have quickly put them in their place. He was the alpha male here, at the top of the food chain, and he wanted solitude, so he chased any adventurous animals off when they approached him.

"If this planet is never discovered the universe will be a better place because of it. This nature should never be marred by technology," he mused. "It seems to be conducive to my gains in strength, speed, and power. I have to focus less energy on watching for enemies and more on my training. Perhaps that is why Kakarrot was able to surpass me: he was unhindered by a hostile environment where either he could not grow or had to hide his growth.

"Even on that wretched mudball I was on guard every moment of every day, though I felt more at ease with that damnable blue-haired wench. But there when I found peace I could not trust my body's desire to rest and became more agitated. Here, I know there is no danger and I can, perhaps for the first time, stop searching for threats. Here I am free to be what I am without restraint. A man, an animal, blending with nature, fighting, bloodying the ground daily, but not with the lifeblood of another sentient species.

"What were saiyans before they were enslaved by the lizard? My mother was called the last of the old kind. I barely remember her, but I know that she did not like to fight to kill others. She fought for the thrill of the hunt, for the challenge, but never to kill unless she had to. And she loved hunting the animals of Vegeta-sei and eating their fresh flesh. Maybe my race forgot what they were, corrupted by the lizard as I was. We were predators, not monstrous killing machines with no restraint. Is it possible that Kakarrot is more of a saiyan than I give him credit for?"

Vegeta shook his head and sat up. He had in him the blood of a saiyan prince, the last true saiyan, even if what he was had been debauched by his slavery, abuse, and humiliation. His saiyan nature was pure though it had been twisted to serve Frieza's purposes. "If my mother was a saiyan of old, then so am I, for she taught me to be different than the others. Even if I ignored, forgot, or mocked what she told me, it is engrained in my being. I cannot ignore my instincts, my need for blood, battle, and power, but I do not have to use them for what the lizard forced me to. If I continue to murder, to hate, to exploit other beings, then am I different from him? If I continue to live as he taught me, then he is still controlling me even in death. I see now that while I do have the power to take life, it is dishonorable to do so without reason. It is more honorable to realize I have that power and choose not to use it. Not to be merciful and soft-hearted, but to demonstrate self-control and discernment of when it is appropriate to kill.

"Dare I believe what the woman told me that night? Do I have it in me to be a great man? I thought that she was making things up to console me, and I resented it, rejected it. But there is a chance that I can change. Can I regain my sanity? Can the damage the lizard did to me be undone? Can my dead soul still be saved? I cannot undo the past, but I do not have to live as a broken shadow of should-have-beens or what-ifs. I have said that I will not be anyone's slave ever again, so why am I allowing myself to be a slave to my past? My destiny is mine to make and I will not further shape myself into a replica of Frieza. I will be the saiyan I was born to be. My people are dead, but I will honor their deaths by redeeming myself and living as they could have if they had been free. I will end the race as it was in its greatest era: civilized but wild, free and with honor. As their prince it is all I can do to defend the pride of my great race."

Vegeta exhaled slowly and nodded his head, his vow to his people made. He prayed to whatever deity might listen that he could succeed in restoring their lost honor through his life. He opened his eyes again and saw that the sun was sinking low in the sky, now hidden by the trees overhead. He pulled his bodysuit, gloves, and boots back on and sat in silence, watching the clear water flowing by. He lowered his hand to the ever-changing surface of the stream and focused his entire conscious on feeling the cool fluid pass under his palm. Moving forward, always changing, clear and clean, rinsing away the blood on his hands, his impurities, his past sins.

"You're getting sloppy, Gohan, you need to focus!"

"Whoa! That was close," the boy exclaimed when his father's fist missed his face by mere inches. He was sparring with Goku while Piccolo watched from the sidelines to assess his techniques. It had dragged on and he was getting tired, and his movements showed it. "Can't we take a break, Dad?"

"You can't take breaks in battles, Son," came the predictable reply. Gohan sighed and launched into another burst of attacks, none of which landed on his opponent. But then, a kick landed in the full-blooded saiyan's side and knocked him to the ground.

Goku seemed distracted as he hardly noticed he had been felled and his previously cheerful features turned serious. "Gohan, keep training with Piccolo. I'll be back soon." That said, he raised his fingers to his forehead, honed in on the ki he felt, and blinked out of sight.

Gohan looked at where his father had just been lying on the ground. "Where did he go?" A foot landed in the back of his neck and brought him back to the task at hand. Sparring. Now.

Vegeta was fighting another dead opponent when he suddenly growled and twisted into a roundhouse kick, his leg connecting with something solid for a change.

"Ow! What the heck, Vegeta?" Goku whined as he rubbed his aching arm.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Kakarrot?" the older saiyan snarled. "I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be left alone. For Kami's sake I left your damned planet!"

Goku laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that. I was hoping you would come back. See, Bulma really misses you and I've been bored without a sparring partner who's at my level, and if you remember there's going to be these androids that come and destroy the planet and we'll need your help…"

Vegeta sneered at his unwanted visitor. "I told you to take care of it yourself. I'm not one of your pathetic little lackeys that's there at your beck and call. I will do as I please, and right now I want to be here, not on your pathetic little mudball. Go back to your hellhole and leave me alone." He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back on Goku.

"But Vegeta!" Goku almost shouted, "What about Bulma? Don't you want to see her?"

"No."

Wrong answer. Or at least, not the one Goku _wanted_. "You don't?"

"No, Kakarrot. It's not a hard concept, even for you. I do not want to see that woman. Not now and not ever. So if you've come here to take me back to her, you might as well abandon your mission. I will not return until I want to, which may be never."

Goku furrowed his brows and clenched his fists. He just _had_ to get Vegeta to come back somehow. "What is your problem? She's sorry for whatever she did! Let go of your grudge and come back already."

Vegeta rounded on the younger saiyan, his tail bristled around his waist and lip curled in a snarl. Goku took a step back and raised his hands defensively. Getting in a fight was probably not the best way to get the crazed prince back to Earth. "I will not listen to any more of your insolence, you third class clown! You have stated your business, now leave," Vegeta spat. He growled out a warning and crouched into a fighting stance Goku could hardly recognize. It was familiar and yet reminded him more of a tiger or lion than a person. Even so, it was flawless.

Things were quickly going downhill, that much was obvious. Goku's jaw dropped in confused surprise when Vegeta dropped his ki back to his base level, his hair and eyes returning to raven black. "Vegeta? What are you doing?" Goku was starting to get nervous and he wasn't quite sure why; if he were to ascend he could easily defeat the saiyan prince, but he didn't feel as confident about victory as he should have. There was something different about the prince, and it wasn't just his _level_ of power, but also his _depth_ of it. It felt like Vegeta had an untapped reservoir of energy that reeked of raw animalistic strength. It hadn't been there when he was a super saiyan, but perhaps his amount of energy had masked what was hiding beneath the surface. Goku was afraid that if they were to fight, it wouldn't be clean, or at least not human.

Vegeta growled again, louder, and gnashed his teeth at his rival. "Get out of here, Kakarrot," he hissed. He bared his teeth as his tail lashed behind him. His pupils were dilated and his canines appeared longer and sharper, but Goku wasn't sure if that wasn't just his imagination. His muscles rippled with tension and power, ready to be released in an instant. "I am not some pet that you can put on a leash and take back to the woman. Leave. Me. Alone." His voice had dropped an octave, so low that it was barely audible.

Goku's heart was beating a mile a minute as he looked at the wild prince in front of him. A warning had been given and he was highly tempted to heed it, but he was also stubbornly determined to get Vegeta to come back to Earth. So, he gritted his teeth and sank into his fighting stance across from the other saiyan. "No, Vegeta, I'm not going to just leave. How about we have a spar. If I win, you return to Earth with me, but if you win, I'll leave and you never have to go back if you don't want to."

A challenge had been issued in response to the warning. Vegeta's tail lashed again and his rear leg slid back so he could either spring faster or keep his balance if he was attacked. His snarl turned up into a toothy smirk that sent a shiver of apprehension coiling down Goku's spine. "So you want to make a deal with the devil, do you?" Another lash of the tail. "So be it. But on one condition: Anything goes."

What little confidence Goku had mustered up was again knocked from his grasp. He swallowed hard and appraised his opponent again. Wild. Powerful. Maybe insane. This was going to be a hell of a fight, but he had to try for Trunks and Bulma. "Deal."

_A/N: Oh no! Cliffhanger! Bet you can't wait for the next installment. I know I can't. :)_

_By the way... Review, review, review! I'm disappointed at the lack of reviews. I know I'm shamelessly begging for them, but really, I love reviews. Good or bad, bring it on._

_Song: "Better Man" by The Prom Kings._


	23. Chapter 23

Warning: Short and violent. :)

Chapter 23

_So what if you can see  
The darkest side of me?  
No one will ever change this animal I have become_

The sun had sunk below the horizon, casting only a fading red glow on the sparkling crystals of frozen water coating the ground. Piccolo and Gohan had ended their spar and headed back toward home where Chichi would be waiting with a hot bath and a meal fit for a pair of saiyans. Goku had yet to return, and it was starting to worry his son. He left early that morning and said he would return soon, but he had missed lunch and it looked like he was going to miss dinner as well.

"Where do you think he went?" Gohan asked his old mentor when the small house came into view below.

Piccolo looked at the boy and back at the house straight ahead. Goku had not told him about his plan, but he had a good idea about what was going on. He knew that Trunks was the son of Vegeta and Bulma and that he said he would be born two years from when he came and destroyed Frieza. If Vegeta didn't return soon, Trunks might never come into existence in their timeline, something Goku feared greatly.

"Piccolo?"

"I'm not sure, Gohan. But I think he may have gone to talk to Vegeta." His voice was deadpan, not giving away the irritation and apprehension he felt about Goku's decision. Things could either go as they should or go very, very wrong.

Gohan furrowed his brows as he tried to figure out how that made sense. "Vegeta? But I thought he was in space somewhere."

"All your father needs to use instant transmission is a ki signal he can hone in on. He could sense Vegeta's ki despite it being light-years away, and he went to it. Or at least, that's my theory." They had landed in the front yard of the Son house and Gohan was pulling his gi off to get in the bath. "I just hope he comes back alive. Vegeta has become unbelievably powerful."

The sun was high in the sky and beating down on the two saiyans as they prepared for battle. Goku raised his ki to match the older saiyan, but he was sure he would need to raise it much further if he hoped to win. Still, he believed in starting at the same level and going from there when he figured out how strong his opponent actually was. Sweat was beading on his brow, and it wasn't just from the heat. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was scared before a fight. It wasn't that he felt more outmatched than he ever had before, it just seemed like this fight, while probably not to the death, would be the worst fight he would ever have in his life. He had no idea what to expect from an already unpredictable and cunning fighter. It didn't help that he was already worn out from his spar with Gohan.

Vegeta's tail was still lashing angrily behind him. His sharp teeth were bared and he was crouching low in a position to pounce and there were no gaps in his defense. There was a wild fire in his eyes as he sized up his rival. His power level was suppressed, but he had no doubt that he could win with ease, even if Kakarrot ascended. He wouldn't need to, and he would come out victorious. And his victory would be made sweeter by his restraint in power. He sniffed the air and growled smugly when he caught the strong scent of his rival's fear. It was glorious.

They were having an old-fashioned stare down that seemed to drag on for hours before Goku finally shot forward to attack. Vegeta anticipated his move and leapt into the air, his foot connecting with the other warrior's chin and sending him flying back. He phased behind him and bicycle-kicked him between his shoulder blades and he rocketed into the sky. Goku's breath was completely knocked out of him as he was sent skyward.

'Ok, bad start. I just need to surprise him somehow.'

Before Goku could act on that thought, Vegeta was above him and elbowed him in the abdomen. He gasped for breath once again and barely stopped himself before he crashed into the ground. He sensed out the older saiyan and whirled around, his fist connecting with Vegeta's cheek. But all it did was knock his head to the side. It didn't even earn a grunt of pain.

Vegeta used the younger saiyan's shock to his advantage as he grabbed his still outstretched arm and swung him over his shoulder and into the ground. "Is that all the better you can do, Kakarrot? I thought you'd been training!" He jumped and slammed both feet into Goku's chest before darting into the air.

Goku coughed and jumped to his feet. "I'm just getting warmed up, so don't get so cocky," he said and spat out a mouthful of blood. He took off after Vegeta and flew above where he had stopped. He gathered a ball of energy in his hand, but before he could throw it he was once again thrown on the defensive. The prince phased behind Goku and grabbed his hair and yanked it as he dug his heels into the base of his rival's spine where his tail had been cut off.

Vegeta grinned evilly when he heard a roar of pain rip through the younger saiyan's throat and dug his heels in harder with a twisting motion. "How does that feel, fool? I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable?" He laughed maniacally and elbowed Goku in the back of the neck and let go off his hair so he could fall.

He watched as the larger saiyan crashed into the ground again, a grimace of pain carved into his features. He was groaning in agony even after the highly sensitive bundle of nerves had been relieved of pressure. "Damnit, Vegeta, that was low," he snarled.

Vegeta smirked as he lowered himself to the ground again. "Anything goes." He threw himself at the other saiyan and slammed his fist into his jaw. "You've never fought a real saiyan fight before." He swept Goku's legs out from under him as soon as he stood up and grabbed one of his feet and threw him back into the air. Two ki balls formed in his hands and he tossed them at the airborne saiyan.

Goku blocked them and stopped himself in midair. "You can't beat me no matter what kind of fight it is," he yelled. He raised his ki higher and screamed a battle cry as he flew back at the saiyan prince and rammed his elbow between his ribs. He unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches at Vegeta's chest and stomach and slammed him into the ground next to a crater his own body had created only a minute ago.

When Vegeta rose to his feet Goku threw a ki ball at him that Vegeta was not fast enough to block. But when the smoke cleared, there was no flame-haired saiyan in sight. Then he felt heat on his back that hadn't been present before and he was shot forward as a powerful beam of ki rocketed into his back. He screamed as he was thrown into the thick forest, crashing through tree branches that bruised and cut his body.

Vegeta followed him, swinging from branches by legs, arms, and tail. His speed was incredible considering his mode of transportation, and he soon caught up with Goku. He grabbed a branch with his tail and as his momentum swung him upward, he threw more ki balls at the helpless saiyan. He landed on the branch in a crouch and watched as Goku collided with a tree trunk that instantly stopped his motion.

'Why is this so hard? My power is way above his and he's hardly taken any hits,' Goku groaned mentally as he pulled himself out of his indent in the tree. 'I have got to beat him.' Then he charged into the air in the direction he saw Vegeta, ready to engage in more hand-to-hand combat. But when he threw a punch that hit only air and sent his body spinning from the force put into the blow, he began to wonder how long he could last.

The Prince of all Saiyans chuckled and landed on Goku's back and wrapped his legs around his arms so he couldn't move. "Still think you can win, clown?" He resisted the struggling and laughed harder before biting Goku's shoulder and taking a sizable chunk with him as he disappeared into the dense foliage. Goku screamed in pain and slapped his hand over the bleeding wound.

'I can't believe he just did that! I _am_ fighting an animal!' Goku scowled and tried to sense where the other saiyan was hiding. He spun around when he heard a sound from behind, but there was nothing there. He lowered himself to the ground, head whipping around whenever he heard a sound, but there was never any sign of Vegeta. 'He's just messing with my head. I can't let him get to me.'

He fell to the ground when his legs were once again swept out from under him and he fell onto his back and rolled into a backwards somersault to regain his footing. His opponent was gone again. "Psst, Kakarrot, look up," came a loud, patronizing whisper. Goku looked up. Vegeta was hanging by his tail from a branch above him and grinning like the kitty that got the canary. Goku gagged when he saw his own blood smeared around Vegeta's mouth.

When Goku jumped up to grab at the older warrior, Vegeta swung himself to another branch just out of reach and looked over his shoulder and quirked his eyebrow in a silent challenge. Then he jumped to another branch and was soon gone, swinging by his hands and tail alternately, occasionally landing on his feet and pushing off once more. Goku followed him on the ground, running below and hardly able to keep up.

He was growing highly irritated with the prince when he dodged to the right as a yellow, spiky fruit was thrown his way. "What the heck was that?" he shouted as he dodged again to the left. Another fruit flew his way and he jumped straight up to avoid it. He glowered at the saiyan in the tree above and was met with yet another fruit that hit him in the side before he could move out of the way. He yelped again in pain as its spikes penetrated his skin. He pulled it out and was horrified to see it covered in blood that was seeping out of his side.

"Vegeta!" Goku growled as he looked up at the other saiyan, who was now sitting on a branch eating one of the fruits he had used as a weapon. Vegeta looked down at him and snickered before finishing the fruit.

"Is there a problem, Kakarrot?" He dropped the fruit shell and stood up on the branch and stepped off it to land right in front of his rival. "You're not tired of fighting, are you?" He backhanded Goku and brought his knee up to meet his abdomen.

'He's not even tired! I can't keep up with him," Goku thought hopelessly. 'I'm just going to have to go super.'

Vegeta felt his opponent's ki skyrocketing and stepped back with his arms crossed over his chest as Goku's black hair flashed gold and his eyes turned teal. He chuckled again and flicked his tongue over his canines. His eyes roved over the free-flowing blood trickling from Goku's shoulder and side and grinned. He leapt forward and brought his fists down on the side of Goku's neck and swung his leg around to connect with his injured side.

Goku groaned in pain but was able to raise his hand in retaliation as he released a ki beam into Vegeta's chest and shot him away. Vegeta tucked into a ball and rolled when he hit the ground before springing back to his feet and charging forward with hand raised, fingers curled like claws. Goku dodged him and brought his elbow down on Vegeta's back, but his triumph was short-lived as Vegeta landed on his hands and feet and pushed himself into a hand stand, his feet connecting with the younger saiyan's jaw. Vegeta sprang into the air and twisted his body so he landed on his feet and sank into a crouch.

"I expected more from a super saiyan, Kakarrot," he mocked as he watched the younger saiyan trying to regain his composure. "You're hardly even a challenge." When Goku jumped at him, he shot his arm forward, fingers again curled into claws, and dug them into Goku's abdomen. He felt hot blood flooding over his hand and twisted it around as he listened with cruel satisfaction to his opponent's shrieks of agony.

Vegeta pulled his hand back and kicked Goku in his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him as he sent him crashing backwards. Vegeta raised himself to his full height and grinned at Goku's fallen form. "You should have left when I told you to, fool. You cannot beat me no matter how powerful you are. You pose no threat to me and yet you act like you hold power over me! Third class idiot!" His amusement turned to rage as his expression morphed into a fierce scowl and his lip curled into a snarl that revealed his canine. He was done toying with the younger saiyan. He had insulted his honor and he was going to suffer for it.

Goku's vision was blurring from pain and blood loss as he staggered to his feet and leaned against a tree for support. His hair and eyes faded back to black and he panted for air. Blood continued to pour from his wounds and he cringed with the pain. He didn't want to give up. He had never lost any fight that counted, and he wasn't ready to start now. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "I'm not giving up!"

"Then I'll have to make you." Vegeta lunged forward and swung his leg around into Goku's ribs and laughed when he heard them crack under the pressure of his blow. When Goku fell to his knees, Vegeta grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. "You will die if you do not concede." He threw his fist into the other saiyan's nose and broke it. He shot his knee into his throat and released his hair so he could fall back.

Goku gasped for air and threw a weak punch at the prince. Vegeta caught his arm and dug his teeth into his wrist and shook his head, shredding his flesh. Goku couldn't even scream anymore since his larynx had been effectively crushed. All he could do was cringe and try to hold back the tears forming in his eyes. One thing he _could not_ do was cry from the pain his sadistic prince was causing him.

"I would have to say you lose, fool." Vegeta dropped Goku's arm and raised his own and formed a large ki ball in his hand. "Say goodbye." He blasted Goku and waited patiently for the smoke to clear. He knew it had not been powerful enough to kill his rival, but it would have done quite a bit of damage.

The tailless saiyan was blinded with pain as his skin was nearly burnt off his body. He had never known such suffering as he knew now. There was a large bite taken from his shoulder, his wrist was shredded, there was a gaping wound in his abdomen, deep punctures in his side, cracked ribs, fractured hyoid bone, broken nose, and a dull throbbing ache at the base of his spine, not to mention multiple lacerations and bruises coating his body. At that moment, he would have welcomed death if only to escape the agony that seized his body.

"Do you concede?" Vegeta asked. He crouched down by the fallen warrior and grabbed his jaw and jerked his head up and down in a forced nod. "That's what I thought." He slapped Goku and stood back up, arms crossed over his chest. "Now get the hell off this planet before I kill you."

Goku raised his shaky hand to his forehead and tried to find someone's ki on Earth. He prayed that someone – _anyone_ – would have their ki raised high enough for him to sense it so he could get the heck out of Vegeta's vicinity. He was more than thankful when he found Piccolo, who probably had his ki raised as high as he could so that Goku would be able to locate him. Now the trouble was gathering the energy needed to teleport himself home.

Vegeta saw the problem without it being voiced. The younger saiyan was just too drained to make it back to Earth. He sighed and gathered some energy in his hand and gave it to Goku, no more than was needed to get him back to the mudball. "There, Kakarrot," he grumbled, voice suddenly lacking its previous venom, "now go. I will return before the androids arrive." He turned and stalked away, tail lashing behind him. He was still furious at the nerve of the other saiyan trying to come and force him to leave.

A few seconds later Goku was gone. He appeared back on Earth on the ground next to Piccolo and promptly lost consciousness.

_A/N: First and foremost, let me just say a huge THANK YOU for all the reviews on the last chapter. I came back to my apartment after my classes and my inbox was full of alerts about reviews. I pretty much jumped for joy. Then after work my inbox was full again. Wow._

_Addressing some reviews because I think they deserve answers:_

_Some of you are rooting for Vegeta to get back for Trunks' sake. Let me remind you that this _is_ an AU…_

_Whether or not the rape scene was unnecessary and whether or not Vegeta is going to be able to change. Reread his soliloquy in the last chapter! Yes, he's made a conscious decision to change. Will it be easy? No. But does Vegeta ever fail where he tries? The last chapter is actually where the whole story gets its name. He rediscovered honor. Meaning he didn't have it before._

_I know in this chapter Vegeta was totally dominating. Unrealistic? I could just play the "this is an AU" card here, but I'm not going to. Vegeta is way stronger now. Will he stay way stronger? The main point of this chapter is to show his animal side and new source of strength while differentiating between height and depth of power. In my mind, Vegeta has more depth because you really can't seem to keep him down, while Goku is the powerhouse. I always felt like Vegeta needed more potential in DBZ. It frustrated me that he was always so far behind no matter how hard he worked. And anyway, he was stronger than Goku as a super saiyan when he fought Androids 19 and 20! So it's not that unlikely for him to own…_

_Ok, now I'm tired of defending my story. I'll let it speak for itself. But I do appreciate questions and concerns and I'm happy to explain the reasoning behind the storyline. :)_

_I think it's hilarious that my roommate was grossed out by this chapter. Not my fault 'Geta's gotten in touch with his dormant animal side…(ok it is, but that's irrelevant). Anyway, this is probably one of the longest fight scenes I've written to date, so I'd love your feedback on how I did. If it wasn't good and you don't tell me, the next one will be no better._

_I know you're anxious for Vegeta to go back to Earth because you want more Vegeta/Bulma interaction, but keep in mind that this section of the story is extremely important for both of them. Sometimes a relationship grows best when the people are apart and have time to reflect…_

_Song: "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_I miss you now and  
Hey, I can't wait another day  
Hey, that crooked smile upon your face  
No they'll never get old_

"Oh my Kami! What happened to him?" Bulma screeched when the Namekian brought Goku's limp, bleeding body to the Capsule Corp compound. He looked like he had gone through a meat grinder, not a spar with his son and Piccolo.

Piccolo did not answer at first. Anything relating to Vegeta was a touchy topic when speaking with Bulma and his ears were ringing with the high pitched yelling he had already endured from the blue-haired woman when she saw the condition the saiyan was in. He was not in the mood to listen to her angry ranting about Vegeta as well. And yet, she had asked and it might help her better treat Goku to know what had happened. If only there had been some senzu beans, he could have avoided coming to the compound entirely. Then he would only have to listen to one woman screaming instead of two. He had no doubt that Goku's wife wouldn't be happy to see his current condition.

"I'm not sure, since he used instant transmission to go somewhere this morning and just came back looking like this. But if I'd have to guess, he went to see Vegeta, who apparently did not appreciate having a visitor wherever he is." Piccolo answered as honestly, thoroughly, and with as little expression as possible in hopes of keeping Bulma calm through his revelation.

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped when the green man mentioned the saiyan prince. "Vegeta? But he's… he's not on Earth. He's very, very far away. And why would Goku go to him anyway?" Bulma asked as she motioned for Piccolo to follow her and bring his precious cargo to the infirmary wing.

Piccolo shook his head at the questions he didn't want to answer. But there was no getting around them. Somehow, he would have to answer without giving away Goku's motivation. "I suppose he wanted to try and get Vegeta to come back."

"Why? He's been gone for months, why bother him now?"

"I don't know, Bulma, Goku didn't exactly explain himself to anyone," Piccolo growled. He was now officially tired of answering any and all questions pertaining to the saiyans.

Bulma took the hint and stopped talking. She had Piccolo lay Goku's body on an examination table and started running tests. The CT scan showed that he had broken ribs and his hyoid bone was fractured. His nose was broken, but that was fixed easily enough. The wounds in his abdomen and side had not damaged any organs, which further backed up the theory that it was Vegeta who he had fought: only the prince would know exactly where to strike without fatally wounding his enemy. It was his specialty to draw out his opponent's pain and kill slowly, especially when he had a vendetta against said opponent. Considering the state Goku was in, it was surprising to her that Vegeta hadn't finished the job and let him die.

By the time Bulma had assessed all of Goku's bodily damage his wounds had pretty much stopped bleeding. She raised the head of his bed to a comfortable angle to help with his breathing since his hyoid was fractured before she realigned his nose and wrapped his ribs. Then she cleaned the wounds as best she could, considering how deep each of them was. She applied antibiotic ointments to his shoulder and puncture wounds and bandaged them up.

After administering a local anesthetic – she was able to do so because Goku was still unconscious and couldn't run from the needle – Bulma stitched up the abdominal wound and put the ointment on over the sutures. All that was left were the burns and cuts. She was disgusted to see that many of the burns were third degree. She cleaned the burns and covered them with bandages coated in medication that would help them heal quickly and keep them from drying out. Last she cleaned his cuts and poured hydrogen peroxide over them before slapping band-aids on them. She was irritated at how routine it was becoming to play doctor. Since Vegeta had come into her life she had practically earned an honorary medical degree.

Through it all Piccolo stood out of the way and silently watched Bulma tend to the wounded saiyan. He was impressed with her skill and calm demeanor when dealing with rather ugly things. When she finished, he asked, "Is it ok for me to take him home now?"

Bulma nodded and went to the sink to wash her hands, throwing soiled cloths and bandages in the biohazard container on the way. "Yeah, that would be a good idea. He's going to have to rest for two or three days and I would keep him on a diet of liquids or at least soft foods for a day or two while his hyoid heals. Otherwise he might have some bigger problems on his plate. I used absorbable sutures, so I won't have to take his stitches out."

Piccolo groaned at the idea of having to keep the lively saiyan from training with him and Gohan, and it was going to be a pain to keep him from eating solid foods, but he trusted Bulma's judgment on how to get him healed the fastest. "I'll try to make sure he gets rest, but you know as well as I how difficult that might be." He picked the saiyan up and turned toward the door.

Bulma chuckled and nodded her head again. "I know. If he causes trouble just have Chichi use her frying pan on him."

The Namekian smirked as he walked out and went down the hall toward the front door of the compound. He had seen the infirmary entirely too often for his taste, though he was thankful it had never been for his own injuries. These saiyans just kept getting themselves beaten up. And the crazy thing was one welcomed it and the other didn't seem to mind so much, and both just grew stronger from it. Their unique physiology was nothing short of amazing. He almost envied them for rebounding from injuries so quickly with the added bonus of a gain in strength.

When her patient had been taken home, Bulma sat on the edge of the exam table and held her head in her hands. She wasn't as bothered by Goku's injuries as she could have been since she had seen many like them before and many worse. Vegeta had been self-destructive and kept her first aid skills sharp. But she was emotionally spent as she tried to understand why Goku had gone to see the other saiyan in the first place.

'That idiot! Why would he go bother Vegeta? He left the planet to get away from everyone here, so I think it would be obvious that we shouldn't bother him even if we can. Goku should have known better. What could have possibly driven him to try to bring Vegeta back?'

Bulma's questions went unanswered as her mind failed to come up with any plausible explanations for Goku's strange action. That was when another horrifying thought struck her.

'Oh Kami. If that's how bad Goku looked, what condition was Vegeta in? He always managed to come out in worse shape even if he was at the same power level! He could be dying alone on some strange planet light-years away with no one to rescue him. But Goku wouldn't leave him to die, would he? What if he didn't have a choice?'

Fear stirred in Bulma's heart as she was unable to shake these thoughts from her head. Even though he had hurt her, Bulma still cared deeply for the saiyan prince and couldn't stand the thought of him meeting his demise at the hands of her best friend, even if it had been accidental. She needed to know how Vegeta was doing now. For the past few months she had hardly given his well-being a second thought because she knew he could take care of himself, as long as he chose to. But now she was worried about him and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

Running out of the infirmary, Bulma headed for the kitchen to grab the phone and call the Sons. If Goku wasn't awake and able to answer her question she was sure she was going to lose her mind. She dialed the familiar number and just about ripped her hair out with frustration each time the phone rang. They were taking far too long to answer.

"Hello, Son residence, this is Gohan speaking," came a boy's distracted, yet still polite, voice. There was noise in the background that sounded like a woman screaming and furniture or something being thrown around, or at least violently rearranged.

"Gohan? It's Bulma. Did Piccolo and your dad get back yet?"

"Uh, yeah, Piccolo just came in with Dad. He doesn't look so good and Mom's kind of freaking out." There was the distinct sound of a frying pan hitting someone's head.

Bulma cringed at the sound before asking, "Is your dad awake now? I really need to speak with him."

"Yeah, he's awake. Hold on, I'll get him." There was the sound of the phone being set down on a table and more scuffling and screaming in the background. Goku's voice came through on the other line in a pleading, apologetic tone as he tried to calm his wife before he picked the phone up.

"Bulma? What's up?" he asked.

"Goku! Did you go see Vegeta? What happened? Is he alright?" she asked too quickly for him to understand.

Goku sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was being yelled at from both sides and it was giving him a splitting headache that was not very welcome. It was just another pain to add to his already long list of complaints. Really all he wanted to do was drag his sore, exhausted body to bed and sleep it off, but that didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon. "Yes, Bulma," he answered guiltily, "I went to see Vegeta. We had a spar of sorts and he beat me good." He stopped and laughed without humor, which succeeded in causing more pain in his throat. "Sad thing is he hardly took a hit through it all. He's fine, B. He's gotten a lot stronger and he seems to have tapped into some kind of power he's always had but never used before. It's amazing. It completely overpowered me and I went super."

Bulma sighed in relief and placed her hand over her racing heart in an effort to calm it. "Oh thank Kami," she breathed. "He's been taking care of himself, then. I was wondering if he would neglect himself once he left. He has a tendency to ignore his needs, you know."

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. "He looked great, Bulma. A little wild and crazy, but healthy. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen him look that good. Well fed, rested, everything."

"I'm glad to hear it. But would you mind telling me what you were thinking by hunting him down?"

Goku hesitated. He couldn't tell her the real reason, but she was always good at figuring out when he was lying. "I wanted to see if I could get him to come back," he answered vaguely. Hopefully that would satisfy her and she wouldn't ask any more. Besides, talking wasn't an easy task at the moment and he'd already been trying to plead with his wife to forgive him for scaring her so badly by turning up in such a sad state. His throat was hurting terribly and he wanted the conversation to end soon.

"He's been gone for months. Why would you suddenly care about him returning now?" No such luck for the happy-go-lucky saiyan.

"Um, listen Bulma, I can't talk right now. I'll answer your questions later, ok?" Before she could answer he hung up the phone. He was feeling too weak to stand up to two angry women right now, and his wife took precedence over his friend.

Bulma looked at the phone in surprise and then with a snarl slammed it back in its cradle. "Damnit, Goku! What were you up to?" She leaned against the kitchen counter and looked out the window at the gray, lifeless sky and frowned. "Did you even find out if he was going to ever come back?" She sighed and pulled a mug out of the cupboard. Maybe some tea would calm her fried nerves.

When Goku was gone Vegeta powered back up to super saiyan. His unwelcome visitor had interrupted his training and he needed to make up for lost time. The spar hadn't even been a challenge to him, and he was in his base state the whole time. He smirked when he considered the apparent difference in their power levels and mentally patted himself on the back. He had not needed to power up once and he still wiped the floor with his ascended rival. His victory left a sweet taste in his mouth. The icing on the cake was that he was fighting at 675Gs.

'That pathetic fool will think twice about bothering me again. I have put him in his place and reminded him who the Prince of all Saiyans is.'

Vegeta turned the gravity simulator up to 700Gs and started his kata. His goal for the day was to hold his transformation for over ten hours. Even though his power was growing every day he still lost a great deal of energy whenever he ascended, and he realized that no matter how natural transforming to super saiyan became, it would continue wasting ki. The best solution to that problem was to become so accustomed to the ascended state that he could stay in it for long periods of time – days, if need be – so that he wouldn't have to waste his precious energy transforming. So he was working toward that goal and was making steady progress. At the rate he was going, he would be able to hold his super saiyan form for over a day in two weeks or less. When he was finally able to even sleep as a super saiyan, he would begin his intense strength training and spend less time in his base form.

'Then again,' he thought after going over his plan in his mind for what must have been the fiftieth time, 'I have become incredibly powerful without ascending. I was able to easily defeat Kakarrot without transforming. It felt as though I had found a new source of energy I had been unaware of before. I'm not sure where it came from, but perhaps I should focus on nurturing that well of power. It felt so different than my usual energy, but it was so natural, as if it is what I should have been using all along.'

Having finished his kata, Vegeta flipped through his memories of past battles to find one to use in his training for the rest of the day. It would need to be a lengthy fight, if nothing else. After racking his brain for a good one for several minutes, he finally remembered one he had fought with a shape-shifting alien from an aquatic planet who had the ability to make itself invisible and stay underwater for hours at a time. The amphibious creature had given Vegeta a difficult time as the saiyan prince had, at that time, been unable to detect ki and his scouter was not much use since it had been malfunctioning and he hadn't been able to fix it before the mission he was on.

Though Vegeta had been trained to be able to hold his breath for up to thirty minutes, a long time even for a saiyan, he could not compare to the amphibian alien. He tried to keep the fight out of the water, but his adversary recognized his weakness underwater and exploited it as much as possible. He had been a strong warrior on land, but underwater he was unstoppable, which was basically the opposite of Vegeta. And so, the battle lasted many hours, alternating between land and water and it pushed the young saiyan to the brink of his endurance.

'That battle was a great one that I could still learn much from. But is there a large body of water on this planet? So far all I have seen are small streams. There must be either a common source for them all or a common outlet, surely. I cannot relive this battle without the same conditions, and for that I need water. Lots of water.'

Vegeta located one of the many streams and flew above it, following the current in hopes of finding a large body of water at the end. He didn't know if he would have to fly all the way around the planet to find the end of the stream, but that didn't bother him. He wanted to do battle with one of his most frustrating enemies again and perfect his techniques while pushing himself to the limits of his endurance. It would be a great workout. He smirked.

This battle would last long past the time he usually finished his daily routine. It would extend well into the night, making it even more similar to the original battle. He wouldn't be getting much sleep that night because he would still rise at the same time as always in the morning, but he didn't mind. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he was excited at the prospect of a rigorous night of training. Besides, he hardly needed any sleep since coming to this planet. It seemed to feed him energy. 'Unfortunately for that clown,' he thought smugly.

The day after Goku went to see Vegeta, Bulma flew to the Son residence to have another talk with Goku and check up on his healing progress. She thought it was unlikely he had willingly given up training, even for a relatively short period; he was even worse than Vegeta about not wanting to miss training. The difference was he was less hostile about being told to rest instead of train. He was like a child with too much energy that made sitting still impossible. If it weren't for his superhuman ability to heal quickly Bulma might have thought it would be a good idea to use restraints to keep him in bed and sedate him to keep him from hurting himself worse.

Bulma landed her jet in the front of the small house and went to the door, which opened before she was able to knock. In front of her stood a very irritated brunette woman holding a mixing bowl with some kind of batter she had been mixing up.

"Oh it's you, Bulma! I was afraid I was going to be harassed by another salesman." Chichi stood back from the door to allow her unexpected guest entry into her humble abode.

Bulma grinned and rubbed her arm sheepishly. "Sorry I didn't call Chichi. I came to check up on Goku. You have been able to keep him in bed, I hope?"

Chichi rolled her eyes and grumbled something unintelligible under her breath. "Yeah, he's in bed. It wasn't easy to keep him there though. I swear he's like a little kid! Sometimes I think I'm raising two children instead of one." The younger woman set her mixing bowl in the kitchen and led Bulma to the bedroom where Goku was supposed to be resting.

"Goku? You awake?" Bulma poked her head in the door and spotted the saiyan lying in bed looking bored and sulky. She smiled when he turned to face her and grinned at her.

"Hey Bulma! What brings you here?"

Bulma walked over to the side of the bed and sat on the edge next to her old friend. "Just wanted to see how well you're healing." She pulled the covers down so she could examine the worst of his injuries. She gingerly prodded his ribs but he showed no serious signs of pain, so his ribs must have been mostly healed. "How do you feel?"

Goku winced when she touched his throat. "Mostly better. Sore though, and tired."

Bulma nodded and pulled the bandage off his shoulder and frowned. She had expected it to be healing much faster than it was. It still looked like a piece of raw meat. "What happened to your shoulder, anyway? It's not healing like the rest of you."

The saiyan laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, Vegeta kind of bit me." He averted his eyes when his gaze met Bulma's look of disgusted shock.

"He _bit_ you?" She grabbed the box of gauze from the nightstand and put it on Goku's shoulder after putting more ointment on it. Maybe that was why it wasn't healing very well, though she didn't know why. At this point it wouldn't surprise her to find out that saiyans have venom like a snake so when they bite something it dies from poisoning. Or at the very least has a difficult time healing.

Goku nodded and hissed in pain as the ointment stung his open wound. "He was fighting like an animal. It was kind of scary, actually."

Bulma chuckled as she checked out the punctures on his side. "I can imagine," she mumbled. "He kind of scared me when he would show his animal side." She changed the bandage and threw the old one away. "He really did a number on you, Goku."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. Not only had he been physically beaten down by someone with a much lower ki, but his ego had taken a major blow too. He didn't have the same kind of pride Vegeta did, but it was still there and it could hurt just as much. He figured that was what Vegeta must have felt when he was defeated by himself, Krillin, Gohan, and Yajirobe. It was an unlikely victory that shattered his pride. He wasn't one to hold grudges, but his recent defeat opened his eyes to see why Vegeta could never seem to let go of the humiliation of their first battle. It hurt worse than any physical ailment and gnawed at his mind relentlessly so he couldn't ignore it. It became a lingering memory that refused to be pushed aside.

"You said you went to try to get him to come back to Earth," Bulma stated as she changed the bandages on his burns that were, for the most part, healed. "Care to tell me why?" She tried to keep her voice level even though she was dying to know what he was doing.

Goku frowned and lowered his head as if he were ashamed of what he did. "I just thought it would be better. For different reasons… I guess I wanted to make sure he would come back to help defeat the androids. He told me before I left that he would. He just didn't say when."

That made Bulma stop in the middle of her ministrations. "He'll come back?"

"Yeah, sometime. I was hoping sooner rather than later, but I don't think there's any way anyone can convince him to come back before he's good and ready." Goku sighed and laid back. "I'm really tired, Bulma. I'd rather talk later, if that's ok."

"Sure, Goku. You need your rest." Bulma patted her friend's hand and stood up to leave. She was thrilled that the saiyan prince would come back, if only to fight the androids. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to see him and somehow convince him that she was sorry for offending him. Maybe he wouldn't even be mad at her anymore.

Bulma walked out of the bedroom and went down the hall back to the kitchen. She would spend some time talking with Chichi before she went back to Capsule Corp. It was rare that she got to see her friends when there wasn't some kind of trouble and she was desperate for some human interaction. But even as she chatted with her friend, her mind wandered back to the saiyan who had left so many months ago.

'Vegeta, when are you going to be back? Am I going to see you again? I miss you so much and I'm so sorry that I made you feel like you had to leave. I never meant to hurt you, I wish you could understand that.'

"Bulma? Are you alright?" The concerned question broke her out of her thoughts and she smiled at Chichi and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just spacing out a little since I didn't get much sleep last night."

Chichi accepted the blue-haired woman's answer and continued with whatever she had been talking about, but Bulma still wasn't really listening.

'Please come back soon, you big jerk. It's been lonely around the compound without you there. You became a pretty big part of my life and you leaving left a pretty big void.' Bulma sighed and checked the clock on the wall. It was getting later in the morning and she would need to leave soon if she wanted to get back to the compound in time for lunch.

"Hey, Chichi, I need to get going. But it was nice seeing you." Bulma stood from her seat and hugged her friend. "Let me know if you need anything. And keep me updated on Goku."

"Sure thing, Bulma. Thanks for stopping by."

The two women said their goodbyes and Bulma took off in her jet. She shook her head to get images of the flame-haired saiyan out of her head as she flew back to Capsule Corp, but it was no use. She had finally been coming to accept his absence, but now he was constantly on her mind again. And for once she had the reassurance that he would be back eventually.

All was quiet in the forest until a gasping, panting saiyan burst out of the calm water and dragged himself onto the shore. He retched a few times, ridding his stomach of excess water, then collapsed onto his back. He was utterly exhausted, but he had a satisfying sense of accomplishment after finishing that particular battle. When his breathing slowed back to normal, he opened his eyes and gazed up into the night sky since it was actually visible in his present location. There was a full moon shining brilliantly in the sky and its light shimmered across the vast expanse of water before him.

When he realized what he was seeing, he shot up to his feet and took a step to run into the dense foliage where the moonlight could not reach him. A full moon was not what he needed at the moment. He was already physically worn out from his training; transforming into an Oozaru could have devastating effects on his body. He barely made it to the edge of the forest when he felt the telltale pounding of his heart, the bulging of his muscles, and feral fury clouding his mind. He groaned in pain as his body started its transformation, the sound deepening to a growl as he grew.

Vegeta fell to his knees, breathing heavily, and fought to keep his mind under control. Even after training for years to never let his primal mind get the better of him, it was still difficult sometimes. When the primitive feelings ebbed away, he stood up and looked around from his new perspective. As tall or taller than most of the trees gave him a much different outlook on the planet.

He had to admit it felt good to transform again, especially with a natural moon. Even though he knew he would regret it in the morning when he returned to his normal body, he figured it wouldn't hurt to take advantage of a night as an Oozaru. After all, he didn't know how long the full moon lasted on this planet. He laughed, but that, too, sounded more like a growl.

Lumbering along the shoreline, he thought about the power he had now, as an Oozaru. It wasn't unlike the power he was using in his fight with the third class clown. But how was that possible? The power of the Oozaru could only be unlocked by transforming. It was unheard of for a saiyan to use the same power in the humanoid form. It was too beastly, uncontrollable, and, most importantly, too great. The strength gained through the transformation made saiyans ten times stronger. If he was tapping into that when he was fighting earlier, it was no wonder he was able to so easily defeat his rival. The best part was, he didn't even realize he'd been doing it.

He wondered if that gave him an advantage that could not be equaled by Kakarrot. Since he was tailless and thus unable to ever transform again, had he lost the potential ability to harness the power of the Oozaru? That was a sweet thought, indeed.

Vegeta did not cause much destruction that night. He was too reverent of the untouched majesty of the nature around him. At the back of his mind he could feel his primitive desire to destroy his surroundings, blowing them to oblivion in a show of unrepressed strength, but he ignored it, instead reveling in the power coursing through his body. This was the power he found. The power he had all along, the power no other saiyan had ever fully controlled and channeled even without the full moon. Legendary? He was, for not only had he reached the status of super saiyan, but he was the first to reach into an even deeper power.

When the orange sun peeked above the horizon, Vegeta could feel the unchecked power melting away, back to the deepest core of his being as he transformed back to his normal form. He roared in agony as his bones and muscles shrank and twisted into a different shape, reminding him that he was too tired for this. His body was even more exhausted than before, and it didn't feel good to have to endure the changes of the transformation. It never felt pleasant, to be honest, but it usually didn't _hurt_ so much.

Vegeta dropped to his hands and knees and panted as sweat dripped from his nose and chin onto the ground below. His body was periodically wracked with convulsions that made him black out for a few seconds at a time. He knew the dangers of transforming when his body was not in good shape. Some saiyans had actually died doing it. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to break through his ribs if it kept up its erratic pace. Finally, his vision blurred as he lost consciousness and collapsed in a heap of exhausted, overheated, aching muscles.

Bulma looked up at the night sky from her perch on her balcony railing. She hugged her knees to her chest and sighed sadly as she wondered which of the stars was where Vegeta currently resided. Was he even in the same galaxy? She was comforted by the fact that he would be back, but now she missed him more than ever as she wished he would hurry up and make his return. It was good to know he was doing well, but for some reason she had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. She reminded herself a dozen times that Goku said he was healthy, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened to him.

'Come back to me, Vegeta,' she begged the faraway prince, 'come back safe. I miss you. I know it's crazy, but I really miss you.'

_A/N: So, this update was a little bit slow in coming because it was, in my opinion, too short. I like to make my chapters at least 5,000 words long and this one was about a thousand short. Anyway, hope this explained some things…_

_Song: "Miss You" by Candlebox_


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_There's no crime  
Yet I stand accused  
And I see the solution naked before me  
You reduced me to a weapon unlike you_

It was early afternoon at the Capsule Corporation compound and the sun was shining brightly overhead. The snow had melted and in its place emerald green grass and a rainbow of flowers were blooming in the gardens. Winter had gone as suddenly as it had come and left a warm, balmy spring in its wake.

Sitting at the patio table were a blue-haired woman and a scar-faced man, conversing happily and drinking lemonade. They were each taking a break from their work since they had been at it all morning: the woman in her lab improving one of her new inventions and the man training in the yard of the compound. Both had become workaholics over the winter since the weather made it too unpleasant to go out and find any kind of recreation.

"Hey, B, you think you can spare some time to go on a date tonight? It's too nice out to stay inside," Yamcha said, grinning. He took his girlfriend's hands in his and gave her a puppy dog look when she looked unsure about going out.

The look hardly, if ever, failed. She cracked. "Sure, Yam, I think it would be a good idea to get out of the house for once."

"Awesome! You're the best, B."

Bulma smiled as her face flushed a little. She didn't understand why he would get so excited over a simple date, but it was kind of cute in a way. And anyway it really had been quite a while since they had last gone out. He was spending more time around the compound now that her mood was more stable and generally positive and he had been training there during the day for the past couple weeks. He had been much more serious about his training, actually, since Vegeta had left, though no one was really sure why. It almost seemed like he thought that if there would only be one full-blooded saiyan in the fight with the androids, he would have to kick up his training a notch or two so that he would be able to help if needed. He had never liked the saiyan prince, but he had been counting on his strength to defeat the androids, if only subconsciously and grudgingly. Regardless of the reason for his training jumpstart, Yamcha had been too busy to take Bulma out very often, and even when he did he had been tired and cranky.

Despite not having seen much of Yamcha, Bulma was not as upset by it as she expected and not as excited about going out with him as she would have been several weeks ago. Work had taken priority in her life and the idea of being taken away from that in order to have dinner at a fancy restaurant with someone she could see and talk to during dinner at the compound seemed excessive and time-wasting. To make it worse, the only thing Yamcha ever talked about anymore was his training and why he wasn't going to play baseball this season. After hearing it all so many times, Bulma was getting bored with the two dead topics and wanted something else, but she couldn't even talk about _her_ life because Yamcha just plain wouldn't understand any of it.

But maybe the warm weather and sunshine would improve her mood and bring back the spark that was missing in their relationship. That's what she was hoping, anyway, when she had agreed to go on the date with her long-time boyfriend.

"But if we go out tonight, I want to be able to stay outdoors. You're right, it is really nice out and I don't want to be cooped up in a stuffy old restaurant or movie theater. Let's have a picnic at the park or something," she added after a minute.

Yamcha grinned again and nodded. "Sure, B, that sounds great. So let's make it an early dinner so it'll still be light out."

"Alright. Four o'clock ok?"

"You bet. That gives me a couple more hours to train." Yamcha squeezed her hands and stood up from the table. "Speaking of which, I should get back to it. See you soon."

Bulma watched the receding back of her boyfriend and sighed. She was proud of him for sticking to his training as well as he had lately, but it left an emptiness in her life when she actually did want to do something other than work in her lab. It was hard to get him to take a break, and when he did take one, it was short, maybe a few minutes. Bulma stood up from the table and grabbed the empty glasses and half-empty pitcher of lemonade and took them back in to the kitchen. If he was going to spend the rest of the afternoon training, she would go back to working. Maybe she could get her mother to make the food for their picnic.

Vegeta sat on the bank of the stream he had drunk from and stretched the aching muscles in his arms. His amazement never ceased at the tremendous growth in power since he nearly died the morning after the full moon. He was hardly aware of the passage of time, but if he had to guess, he had been out for half a week. After that, though, his power seemed to know no limits. He kept working himself harder and never reached the end of his endurance. He marveled at it. With the realization of the source of his power, he was able to tap into it even deeper. The only danger with that was the overwhelming primordial drives that threatened to consume him. It had been a trial since then to maintain his rationality.

He wrapped his golden tail loosely around his waist and watched the fish swimming in the clear water unconcerned about the saiyan close by who could, if he wanted to, catch them and eat them effortlessly. But Vegeta was not hungry at the moment and so was content to watch them and let them live another day.

He had been in his ascended state for three days now, and it was only starting to put strain on his body. But he was determined to push his endurance and so he refused to drop the transformation until he absolutely could not sustain it any longer. He had finished his training for the day, 12 straight hours of battling unseen opponents at 950Gs without breaks for food or water after a previous eight hour stretch of anaerobic exercises and kata. When he finally finished he had eaten three deer and at least a bushel of spiky fruits. His already enormous appetite was even greater than before because of the amount of ki his body was using to stay super saiyan.

It had been over two months since he had fought Goku and he had been alone the entire time. Before his lengthy stay on Earth, the solitude never would have bothered him; in fact, he would have welcomed it and never wanted to return to a place where he would be surrounded by other people of any race. Now though, he was more accustomed to company and being alone was starting to bother him, if only a little. He had gained a greater control on his thoughts and was able to quickly reign them in when they started drifting toward a blue-haired woman living on a negligible backwater planet on the edge of an insignificant galaxy. For that he was grateful, but the loneliness he experienced was very real no matter how much he tried to deny it, and it was becoming greater every day. At the moment, he was warring with himself over the problem.

The fish in the stream were congregating together in a cluster of pink fins and scales as they found a source of food. They did not fight over it, but shared harmoniously. Vegeta could not help but think that was only natural, the way things should be, even for a saiyan. He had come to realize that saiyans _were_ social creatures and needed interaction with other sentient creatures if there were no other saiyans around to associate with. His pack instincts had been dulled, both through his upbringing and his breeding. Nonetheless, the instinctual drive to form a pack was there, nagging at him in the deepest recesses of his mind, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

'I suppose I never noticed my need for community before because I was, against my will, forced to be around others around the clock. The only times I was truly alone were when I was in my space pod, and then I was asleep.' Vegeta sighed and laid back in the soft grass. He looked up at the leaves and smiled a true smile of contentment. 'Perhaps it is time for me to return to civilization, as much as I enjoy it here.'

The saiyan closed his eyes and tuned his ears to the gentle trickle of the stream, the leaves rustling in the wind, and the calls of small animals scurrying through the forest. This planet was nature at its finest and he almost felt at home there, more at home than he had ever been since his own planet was destroyed. Here he was free to let his animal side out, to push himself in his training without interruption, to sleep without waking every hour, to live without threats. He was certain his surroundings played a key role in him gaining his newfound power.

'Can I return to Earth now? I don't think I should unless I am able to fully integrate my animal side with my civilized mind. I will become a saiyan of old with the benefits of the newer, advanced society. If I can achieve that, then I will be secure in my sanity and identity and will not have to run when I feel both slipping through my fingers as my pride is crushed.

'I think, for the most part, that I have reached that goal. I have learned to channel my need for battle and blood into training, hunting, and, on Earth, I would be able to spar with Kakarrot and destroy the androids or any other threat that arises. Here I have been able to figure out who I am and what I would like to become. I cannot let go of the past, and it will always have an influence on me, but it no longer controls me. It is time to step into the future.

'The tin cans will begin terrorizing Earth in a little over two years. It will take me four months to return, leaving plenty more time to prepare. I have made a great deal of progress in my time on this planet. Surely I have far surpassed Kakarrot, if our last fight was any indication of our standing, and I will be able to defeat him once the androids are gone. I do not know what I will do after that, but I have the entire rest of my life to figure it out. I will not die by the hands of the androids as my future self did. I will live on and become even greater.

'So I suppose that settles it. My mind has cleared, my pride is restored, and my strength is truly unrivaled. I have discovered a new power within me that seems to grow the more familiar I become with what is my true saiyan inside. I believe, then, that it is time for me to return. Tomorrow morning I will go, hopefully not seeing this planet for the last time.'

His decision made, Vegeta allowed the sounds of nature and the blanket of warm, muggy air lull him to sleep where he dreamed not of abuse and humiliation at the hands of Frieza, but of his home planet and the dead race he was living to redeem.

Goku was depressed. Since Vegeta had beaten him, he had not dared return to the forested planet and try convincing the saiyan prince to return to Earth soon. There was just no use; he had been physically overpowered and there was no way he could forcibly take Vegeta back to Earth and no way he could persuade him to hurry back. His pride had been shattered and it was taking time to recover from the blow. Vegeta was better, stronger. And still missing.

But that was not all that had Goku feeling down. More important things were happening, or failing to happen in this case. Trunks would never come to be; if history were to repeat itself, he would have to be conceived in two months. Vegeta was still MIA, Bulma was still dating Yamcha, and it looked like the lavender-haired boy was never going to come into existence. It was terrible to know that, in order to save this timeline's future, Trunks had altered things to the extent that he would never be born.

Vegeta landed on a small planet eight light-years away from Earth, which almost exactly at the mid-point of his whole journey. He had planned this stop to refuel and get more oxygen for his space pod. There was still enough in it to get him back safely, but the fuel it used was not available on Earth, so if he ever wanted to use it again he would be out of luck. And it was never a bad idea to have extra oxygen in case of malfunction.

When the door opened and he stepped out of his pod, there was, again, a small welcoming committee for him. And like last time, they were soldiers prepared for a hostile visitor since they had not been expecting anyone to arrive from Cooler's army. When the steam cleared and they could see a fierce-looking man with a tail wearing a tattered bodysuit, they backed away in fear.

"Saiyan!" one shouted in alarm.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He had anticipated this and had already taken precautions to avoid any trouble He was, to his credit, really trying to avoid killing if he didn't have to. "You idiot, what saiyan have you ever seen with my coloring?" As if to emphasize his point, he swished his golden tail through the air.

"But- but you have a tail! What other race has a tail like that?"

"Monkeys, for one. Stop asking foolish questions. It does not matter what I am since I am not just a saiyan," Vegeta said, trying to remain calm. It was harder than he thought to not kill the idiots he met on Cooler's planet. He had intentionally inserted the word 'just' in order to retain his honor code of honesty. In truth, he wasn't _just_ a saiyan. He was a _super_ saiyan.

The alien who must have been in charge of the small troop relaxed somewhat. It was true that no saiyans ever seen before had blonde hair, blue eyes, and gold tails. The new arrival did look suspiciously saiyan, but if he said he wasn't, then he wasn't. No saiyan would ever lie about what he was, especially the one they had heard about: Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans.

"Our apologies, stranger. Why have you come to this planet?"

Vegeta smiled and bowed graciously. "It is quite alright. I understand protocol. I have come to purchase more fuel for my ship and more oxygen." Inside he cringed at showing respect, but it was the only way to stop them from hounding him with questions.

That was when another troop of more heavily armed soldiers came running onto the landing pad. "Sir, our scouters read a power level of over 10,000,000!" The creature that had spoken looked around and each soldier already there and knew that they weren't the ones with such a power reading. Then he noticed the strange golden-haired man standing in front of a space pod.

Vegeta smirked and dipped his head slightly. "I'm afraid that would be me." He cursed himself mentally. Though he was repressing 95 per cent of his power, it was still exceptionally strong and there was no way it could be overlooked. He was afraid this would happen, but it was a risk he was willing to take to _possibly_ avoid taking more lives than he had to.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" the alien leading the men with scouters yelled.

"I am here merely to refuel and get more oxygen for my space pod. I do not wish to reveal to you who I am, but I mean you no harm. I have no desire to challenge Cooler," Vegeta replied coolly. He was struggling against his irritation that would cause his ki to spike.

"You will stay here for questioning," a deep, authoritative voice said from behind the group of trembling soldiers. "Then we will give you more fuel and oxygen and you may leave."

The soldiers parted for a tall humanoid alien with blue skin and short wavy blonde hair wearing a purple bodysuit and yellow armor with a stylish one shoulder pad look. Vegeta recognized him instantly as the captain of Cooler's special forces, similar to Frieza's Ginyu Force. They had met once before, and it had not been a pleasant experience for Vegeta.

_"So this is Frieza's favorite pet, is it?" the blue-skinned alien asked contemptuously as he circled around the young saiyan, no older than ten years. He cracked his knuckles and grinned maliciously. "You know my master, Lord Cooler, always did encourage me to destroy his brother's favorite things."_

_ A shiver of fear worked its way through Vegeta's body. He was helpless in his current state, having just finished a 'training session' with Zarbon. He was en route to the medical bay, but he got stopped along the way when a small embassy from Cooler's empire passed by. He knew he could hide behind the fearsome name of Frieza, but he refused to indebt himself to the lizard in any way, even if meant avoiding another merciless beating that day._

He growled low in his throat as the corner of his mouth rose in contempt, but only for a second before his face returned to stoicism. "And how long will I expect to be detained?"

The blue-skinned man shrugged. "As long as it takes for you to answer our questions. We will not hold you any longer than necessary."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. This was not going by his plan, and he hated not having control. "And if I refuse?" he snarled. He saw the scouters blip with his increase in ki and forced it back down to its previous level. It had not gone unnoticed, though.

"If you refuse than we will be forced to imprison you for disobeying Cooler's will. If you resist, we have the authority to kill you." The man's thick accent was cool and expressionless. Anyone else might have shrunk back in fear, but Vegeta was not intimidated in the least.

Still, he decided to play along, for now. "So be it. I will allow you to interrogate me." Once again his wording played so that the power was in his hands. He knew that if he wanted to resist, they would have no chance against him. Their threats meant nothing to him, but he was still on his guard and would not be taken down by their weapons and no warrior was fast enough to lay a hand on him.

The other man frowned. He had not missed Vegeta's choice of words for what they were. "Right. Come with me then. Men, store his space pod in the holding bay until further notice." As the men rushed to follow orders Vegeta smirked and motioned for the other man to lead the way. Once the man's back was turned his calm façade morphed into a furious scowl with his teeth bared. It was taking every bit of strength he possessed not to lash out at him. He did always hope for a chance at revenge.

_Vegeta swallowed his fear and held his chin high. "If you'll excuse me," he ground out icily, "I have places I need to be." He continued walking, pleased with the surprised gawks he received from the other soldiers from Cooler's army. They certainly hadn't expected him to retaliate in any way._

_ Cooler's top soldier was not so impressed. In a heartbeat he had the young prince pinned to the ground and started punching his face until blood spattered and he was virtually unrecognizable. His nose was crushed, his jaw was fractured in eleven places, he had four teeth knocked out, and his mouth was filled with blood he kept choking on as he gasped for air. Still, he would not give the creep the satisfaction of making him cry out in pain._

_ "Obviously Frieza hasn't taught his pet monkey any respect for his superiors!" the enraged soldier hissed as he continued driving his fists into the boy's battered face._

'You will pay for your transgressions, you freak,' Vegeta swore silently. 'It's been a long time, but I haven't forgotten, and I haven't forgiven you.'

The grounds at Capsule Corporation were anything but peaceful. The scene playing out on the front lawn had become a regular occurrence the past few weeks and few took notice of it this time. When Mrs. Brief heard the commotion she ran into the kitchen to bake a pie and Dr. Brief had already disappeared into his lab to build some new device that had no real purpose.

"You idiot! I don't even want to hear it!" Bulma roared, "Get off my lawn!"

Yamcha clenched his fists at his side and yelled back, "Would you get over it? Nothing happened! You're taking it the wrong way!"

Bulma growled in irritation and stomped her foot. "Nothing happened? What about the other times? I know something is going on, I'm not stupid! Do you think I haven't noticed the way you're always shopping around when we go out somewhere?"

"It's not like that! You know I would never cheat on you," Yamcha snarled. He was trying to hold his temper in check but it wasn't working the longer they argued.

"Whatever, you've done it before!" Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and half turned away from her boyfriend. "How can I trust you?"

"You know what? I don't want to talk about this right now." Yamcha's voice had dropped and he was shaking with the anger he was trying to suppress. "Let's stop arguing now and talk about this like civilized adults later."

"Fine, go. But I better not hear about you flouncing around with some floozy again." Bulma turned on her heel and stormed into the compound, door slamming shut behind her. She really wasn't sure if Yamcha would cheat on her again or not, but he had broken her trust that time and it had never fully recovered even years later. Now she heard that while he was training his eyes would wander in the gym when a pretty girl would walk by, and when they were on dates she would catch him looking over her shoulder at a girl behind her. She knew that he was a bit of a flirt since he had gotten over his fear of women, but that didn't reassure her. She wanted to be the only woman that could catch his eye.

'Kami, have I just been blind to this all along? Maybe he always looked at other girls and I just never noticed. He wouldn't really do anything with them, though, would he?' Bulma brooded as she went down to her lab to work on another new project she had just started. It would take her mind off of her troubles and hopefully put her in a better mood. She had been fighting with Yamcha a lot lately. She didn't like to; she still loved him, very much, but it looked like their relationship was crumbling and she didn't know how to save it this time.

Yamcha watched Bulma go inside and ground his teeth as he tried to calm down. He didn't understand why they had been fighting so much. It seemed like everything he did was wrong. Sure, he would admit that he had _looked_ at other girls, but what man wouldn't? To be honest he was getting frustrated with the dead end his relationship with Bulma seemed to have taken. Were they ever going to settle down, marry, start a family? Or were they going to date until they were ninety? The plateau they were stuck at made monogamy difficult when he realized they were still acting like teenagers when he was ready for a family but she wasn't.

Vegeta followed the blue-skinned man into a small windowless room with two chairs and a single light hanging from the ceiling. He rolled his eyes at the cliché interrogation room but said nothing. Contrary to what he had been warned, he would only stay as long as he wanted, not a minute more. He was planning on having fun with his interrogator though. He could be devilishly exasperating in his ability to twist words, answer vaguely, and omit important information. It wasn't like this was the first time he had ever been in such a situation.

He noticed that the door was infused with some kind of ki-reducing shield that would make breaking out a slight challenge, but it was nothing that he couldn't handle. He figured the walls, floor, and ceiling had similar shields to prevent detainees from escaping as well. He shrugged his shoulders at the thought and sat in the more comfortable looking chair. Oh yes, he was going to make himself as obnoxious as possible.

"Excuse me, stranger, that is my seat," the other man growled.

Vegeta raised his eyebrows innocently and crossed his arms over his chest. "Really? Where I come from guests are always given the best seat in the house. It's proper etiquette." He smirked when he saw the other man's eye twitch with irritation. He started a tally in his head – Vegeta: 1, Interrogator: 0.

Sighing, the armored man sat in the cold metal chair across from Vegeta, figuring that was a battle not worth fighting. "First things first, who are you?"

Vegeta frowned at the man. Was he really expecting him to answer that easily? "I prefer not to answer."

The blue-skinned man snarled. "Not answering is not an option!"

"First tell me how I may address _you_. I think we may have met before, but I cannot recall your name." Vegeta's mouth twitched as he repressed a smile at the man's indignant expression.

"My name is Salza, captain of Cooler's Armored Squadron," he sneered. "Now tell me who you are, _stranger_."

"You would not believe me if I told you. And I wouldn't want to cause you too much distress by revealing my identity, _Salza_," Vegeta dragged his interrogator's name out patronizingly. His smug smirk never left his face.

"Tell me," Salza said icily, "who you are this instant, or I will force it out of you."

Vegeta yawned, growing bored. "If I tell you, you will tell everyone else, and then I will have trouble on my hands that I do not want. As I have already stated, I mean no harm and I do not wish to challenge your master, Cooler. So to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I choose to keep my identity hidden for the duration of my stay. But you may refer to me as Prince, if you wish."

Salza's jaw dropped at the audacity of his prisoner. "Prince? I will call you no such thing!" The score ran Vegeta: 2, Salza: 0. The prince shrugged and said nothing in response. "Fine, we will move on. Are you, or are you not, a saiyan?"

Vegeta tapped his index finger against his bulging bicep as he answered, "Tell me, Salza, what saiyan have you ever seen with blonde hair and blue eyes? No saiyan was ever born with my coloring. Besides, didn't Cooler's brother destroy all the saiyans? I wish you people would stop assuming I'm a saiyan because I have a tail," he added in feigned indignity.

So that was common knowledge, Salza had to admit. He felt slightly foolish for even suggesting the blonde man was a saiyan. But that tail… He shook his head and tried another question. "I could not help but notice your incredible power level, stranger. Tell me, why have we never heard of a warrior with your power reading before?"

"How should I know?"

Well that stumped Salza. How, indeed? Someone with that power level obviously wasn't trying to hide it. Vegeta figured he'd earned another tally. "Point taken. Can you raise your power higher?" He crossed one leg over the other and sat back as if challenging the saiyan. Vegeta wasn't taking the bait.

"What did your scouter tell you on the landing pad?" Vegeta lifted his chin arrogantly and looked down his nose at the man sitting opposite him.

Salza spoke through clenched teeth, "Alright, so I _know_ you can raise your ki. The question is, by how much?" He balled his fists in his lap and glared at the saiyan.

"I would say I am only about five per cent of my true power," Vegeta answered nonchalantly. Vegeta: 4, Salza: 0. The look on the interrogator's face was priceless as his jaw dropped and eyes bugged out of his head.

"That's impossible! You're lying! That would mean you have a power level of 200 million. _No one_ is that strong." Subconsciously Salza pushed his chair back a few inches to put some more distance between himself and the stranger claiming enough power to kill him hundreds of times over.

Vegeta shrugged again. "I do not lie, it is beneath me. Now, I would suggest not mentioning this to anyone, for I do not want any attention drawn to myself. If you alert Cooler then I will proceed to kill every living creature on this planet and take down his entire empire."

Salza stood up, fists clenched at his sides. "You speak treason!"

"It is not treason if I am not a subject of his empire. Sit down and get on with the questioning. I have places to be." Vegeta: 5, Salza: 0.

Salza promptly collapsed into his chair. His expression spoke volumes as he stared at the saiyan in wide-eyed terror. He had not even raised a hand and yet the tone of voice he used and the cold glare he gave were enough to make him believe his threat.

Vegeta waited impatiently as his interrogator regained his composure. Finally, his patience wore out and he barked, "This interrogation is over. You will return my space pod with full fuel and oxygen immediately."

The blue-skinned man scrambled out of his chair and ran to the door, his shaking hands hardly able to enter the code to let himself out. Vegeta watched him go with pure hatred burning in his eyes. 'Fool,' he thought, 'I would be doing the universe a service by destroying Cooler and his henchmen. But it is not my problem.'

Several minutes passed before Salza returned to the interrogation room and gestured politely for Vegeta to follow him back to the landing pad. Vegeta sneered at him as he walked past him through the doorway. The walk was silent aside from Salza's nervous gulping and heavy breathing as his lungs worked to supply enough oxygen to his rapidly beating heart.

When they reached the landing pad Vegeta walked to his space pod and examined its exterior to check for any tampering. Seeing nothing, he ducked inside and activated it and checked its fuel level, oxygen level, and all its systems to make sure it was in working order. He didn't trust Cooler's men, but it looked like everything was normal, maybe better. He smirked and turned to face the men surrounding him, eyes fixed on Salza's pale face.

Vegeta flared his ki up a few million points before dropping out of super saiyan, his hair and eyes turning as black as the endless expanse of space and his tail returning to its reddish brown color. The soldiers around him gasped and backpedaled away from him. His smirk turned into an evil glare as he bowed again. "I, Vegeta, crown prince of Vegeta-sei, thank you for your hospitality. Send my regards to Cooler," he said sardonically as he straightened his back. The men were speechless. "And Salza, do not think I forgot the beating you gave me as a boy." He raised his hand and sent a massive ki blast through the alien's chest and climbed into his space pod, taking off while the soldiers' attention was on their dying leader.

_A/N: Well, Vegeta's not Mr. Nice Guy in any case. But who would want him to be? And before anyone accuses me of making Vegeta's power level too high, remember Goku's was around 150 million when he fought Frieza._

_This update took a while, I know. I've been busy this week. Lots of homework, trying to catch up in reading for my philosophy class, three exams, and peer reviewing research proposals. Not to mention two jobs. Editing this hasn't been at the top of my priorities, forgive me. And then, when I was finally ready to update, my internet died, boo! But we can celebrate because I got over 200 reviews by chapter 24! I'm impressed. So… 300 by 30? At least 275. Hint, hint. The more I get the harder I'll work to make time for editing and updating. It's your job to keep me motivated and encouraged._

_I bet you can all guess what happens in the next chapter, and I bet you're dying to see how it goes down. So you'd better review if you know what's good for you! ;)_

_Song: "For the Sake of Revenge" by Sonata Arctica_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_I've been gone so long, so, gone so long  
But I will come back  
I will come back  
For you_

The sweltering August sun was scorching the grounds of Capsule Corporation, but Bulma welcomed it. She was outside lounging by the pool in the red bikini she bought a year ago when she took Vegeta to the beach while Yamcha was swimming laps. They had finally gotten past their fighting stint and had reconciled. Bulma still smiled whenever she thought about the amazing make-up sex they had when it was all over.

Bulma was looking up at the cloudless blue sky through her red-rimmed sunglasses when something caught her eye. The rays of the sun seemed to be catching something relatively small, probably made of metal, falling through the atmosphere. She sat straight up in her chair and pulled her sunglasses off for a better look, but whatever it was had disappeared.

'It couldn't be, could it?' she thought excitedly as she stood up and ran over to the pool, almost falling in as she stopped herself right at the edge.

"Yamcha! Did you see that? I think it was a spaceship or meteor or something!"

Yamcha resurfaced and wiped the chlorine water out of his eyes before he asked, "What are you talking about, B? You look like you saw a ghost."

"In the sky! I saw something! Can you sense anyone's ki?" She pointed to where she had seen the object in the sky and hopped from one foot to another in her impatience as she waited for her boyfriend to focus and locate any ki that hadn't been there before. Then he groaned and clenched his fists.

Nodding, he informed her of the news. "Yeah, B. I think it's Vegeta. Damnit, I thought he left for good!" He smacked the water with his hand and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh stop pouting, you big baby. Let's go see him!" Bulma grinned and gave him her best puppy dog eyes until he had to look away to avoid cracking under the pressure.

"No way," he said firmly, "I can't stand that guy, and I _don't_ want to see him right now."

Bulma frowned at her obstinate boyfriend and put her hands on her hips, ready to go into verbal battle, but her attention was diverted when she heard her cell phone ringing. She ran back over to her lounge chair and picked up her phone.

"Hello, this is Bulma."

"Bulma!" a cheerful male voice greeted her, "You're not going to believe this! Vegeta's back on Earth."

Bulma's excitement rose to new heights and her eyes sparkled with joy at the confirmation of what she considered to be good news. "I know, Goku! I saw his space pod and Yamcha felt his ki. Hey, would you mind coming here and getting me and we can go greet him?" She crossed her fingers as she waited for his answer.

"No problem, be right there." The phone clicked on the other end and a second later Goku appeared behind her. He immediately fell into the pool.

Bulma spun around and started laughing hysterically as Goku sullenly pulled himself out of the pool. He looked like a wet cat as he shook his head to rid his hair of excess water. Normally he loved swimming, but he didn't like taking a dip when he didn't expect it.

Goku shot her a slightly hurt look before he broke out into his characteristic grin. "So are you ready? Let's go!" Bulma, still laughing, walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder so he could use instant transmission to get them to where Vegeta was. "Oh, hey Yamcha, you want to come too?"

Yamcha looked at the saiyan as if he had grown a second head before he shook his head. "No way, you guys can go see that jerk, but I'm staying right here." Goku shrugged and put his fingers to his forehead. A second later he was gone. Yamcha watched them go and went back to pouting as he pulled himself out of the pool so only his legs were dangling in. He couldn't figure out what they were so excited about. It wasn't as if Vegeta returning was a _good_ thing.

Vegeta opened his eyes and inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with oxygen when the space pod alerted him that landfall was in two minutes. He blinked his eyes a few times and looked out the small window to see the blue marble floating in the endless void of space. Just as he remembered it. He sighed and prepared himself for impact.

Two minutes later, his space pod crashed into a grassy wilderness, creating a massive crater in its stead. Seconds later the door opened with a hiss of steam and Vegeta pulled himself out of the pod. The bright summer sun blinded him temporarily as he adjusted to its light, his tail slowly waving behind him as he gathered his bearings. There wasn't much to see, just lots of grass, hills, flowers, and birds in the sky. Nothing out of the ordinary, though it was strange not to have a canopy of leaves and branches above.

The saiyan took a few steps forward and swung his leg up in a side kick that connected with someone's diaphragm, judging by the sharp exhalation and gasp for air that followed. He returned to his standing position and crossed his arms over his chest, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw that he had two people on this particular welcoming committee.

"Geez, Vegeta, why do you always have to do that?" Goku whined, holding his aching chest. He hunched over and coughed a few times before straightening up again.

Vegeta sneered. "Why are you always in my business, Kakarrot? I've told you a thousand times to _leave me alone_." His eyes turned to the blue-haired woman for the first time and he looked her up and down, his scrutiny making her blush and inch behind Goku. He could make her feel like she was naked the way his eyes pierced through her.

"Hey, Vegeta," she mumbled around Goku's shoulder and gave him a small wave.

"Do you always go trouncing around the planet wearing essentially nothing?" he spat.

Goku laughed nervously and waved his hands in defense, thinking it would be best to stop them before they got into an argument. "I picked her up from Capsule Corp, Vegeta. It's not like we've been all over the place."

For some reason seeing the woman clinging to the younger saiyan in her discomfort made Vegeta angry and he growled low in his throat, his tail lashing behind him. "I see. Are you afraid of me again, then, Woman? You're hiding from me."

"No! No, I'm not scared," Bulma said shyly as she moved from behind her shield. "It's just been a while since I've seen you, and I didn't know if you were still mad at me. I'm really sorry that I hurt your pride, I never meant to." She bowed her head and traced shapes in the dirt with her toe.

Vegeta thought for a moment that if the woman had a tail it would be hanging limply between her legs. He dismissed that thought and rolled his eyes. "As if your foolishness could break my pride. You give yourself too much credit." Translated: apology accepted.

Bulma smiled softly and looked up at his face, not at all put off by his scowl. Before she could stop herself she threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. "You big jerk! I missed you a lot, you know. You could have come back sooner, it wouldn't have killed you," she shouted into his chest.

Goku laughed at the prince's wide-eyed shock as he awkwardly patted Bulma's back and mumbled something unintelligible that sounded like 'foolish woman' and 'petty attachments.' When Bulma finally released him from her death grip, she moved back a few inches and looked into his ebony orbs, as if they could answer all her questions about his trip to space. "You smell really bad," she told him after a minute. She broke into giggles at his indignant look. "Really, when's the last time you took a bath? With soap?" She pinched her nose and waved one hand back and forth in front of her face to ward off the stench.

Vegeta glowered at her and crossed his arms over his chest again, lifting his chin defiantly as he hissed, "Excuse me, Woman, I spent the past few months on a planet where there was no _soap_."

"Yeah, I can tell," she mumbled, but she was grinning at the saiyan prince.

He scoffed and turned his attention to the other saiyan. "Well, what are you doing here, Kakarrot? Come for a rematch?" He grinned evilly and his tail twitched mischievously.

Goku's face turned red and he turned away so he wouldn't have to face the older saiyan. He rubbed the back of his neck as he answered, "Not right now, Vegeta, I just came because Bulma wanted me to bring her to see you."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow at Bulma. "Eager to see me, were you?"

Bulma's face turned almost as red as Goku's. "Don't get cocky," she said, slapping his chest playfully, "I get excited about seeing any of my friends when I haven't seen them in forever." She stuck her tongue out at him and jumped back when he snapped his teeth at it.

"So were you able to train while you were gone?" she asked after a few seconds.

"Of course, Woman. I would not waste several months of my time when I have androids to kill," he answered, sounding very arrogant and matter-of-fact. He raised his arm and pulled his glove off so she could see the small device on his wrist and explained, "I stopped at one of Frieza's old base planets and built this gravity simulator modeled after the one in the gravity room."

Bulma's eyes widened before she furrowed her brows and frowned at him. "No way! There's no way you could make one so small."

Vegeta smirked and took the device off and tossed it to Goku. "Kakarrot, would you care to demonstrate? Put it on and push the white button." Normally he would not share his invention with anyone, but he had some egos to squash. The woman thought she was the greatest technical genius around and Kakarrot, well, it never hurt to put him in his place. The current gravity setting would take him by surprise, if nothing else.

Goku caught the device and grinned as he put it on his wrist. "Sure, Vegeta!" He pushed the white button and immediately collapsed on the ground, completely immobilized. Vegeta threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh my Kami, Goku! Vegeta, help him!" Bulma cried, kneeling by her friend's side.

Vegeta kept laughing as he lowered himself to one knee and pushed the red button on the other side of the device. "I was sure you'd be able to handle my warm-up level, Kakarrot," he gasped out as he broke into another bout of laughter.

"That wasn't very nice," Goku snarled as he pushed himself up onto his knees and massaged his aching muscles. His healing pride had just taken another blow and he wasn't happy about it. "Come on, Bulma, let's go back to the compound." Goku stood up and pulled Bulma to her feet whether she wanted to go or not.

"But, Goku, he was only playing," she pleaded, pulling away. He grabbed her arm again but before he could raise his fingers to his forehead Vegeta swept his feet out from under him and pulled Bulma close, wrapping his tail around her thigh.

Goku sighed in defeat as he looked up at the clear blue sky. He could hear the faintly audible growl coming from the older saiyan. 'Well, that wasn't fun,' he thought. 'But at least it's good to see Vegeta's sticking by her side. They still have a couple weeks…' He forced himself back up on his feet and smiled apologetically at Bulma.

"Sorry, Bulma," he said and turned to the prince. "I'm not going to hurt her, Vegeta, relax." He watched as Vegeta's slightly bristled tail smoothed out, but stayed coiled around her leg.

Vegeta slipped the gravity simulator back on his wrist and pulled his glove on over it. Bulma watched him and cocked her head a little. "How many G's was that?"

"Eight hundred fifty."

Bulma's eyes bugged out and she stuttered for a minute before she could form coherent words. "That was 850? You said that was your warm-up level!"

"It is," he said nonchalantly. "My strength has grown dramatically since I left."

The blue-haired woman could only nod as she stared at him in awe. Finally she shook her head to get her mind working again and turned back to Goku. "If you want to go, you can, Goku. That is, if Vegeta doesn't mind taking me back to the compound. You will come stay with us again, won't you?"

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder and pulled Bulma closer so he could wrap one strong arm around her narrow waist. His hair flashed gold as he was engulfed in a flame of ki. Bulma gasped and jumped in surprise. "What are you doing, Vegeta?" She felt his body burning against her skin as his temperature rose with the infusion of energy.

He whispered in her ear so only she could hear, "You asked me once to fly you as a super saiyan. I'm cashing in your rain check." He levitated in the air slowly until he was almost a hundred feet off the ground.

Bulma smiled brightly and nuzzled back into him as she waved to Goku. "Thanks for the ride, Goku, I'll see you later!" He could barely catch her words as Vegeta blasted off toward the Capsule Corp compound. He grinned and scratched his head.

'Maybe they'll have Trunks after all.' With that thought he put his fingers on his forehead and disappeared.

Vegeta started flying relatively slowly as he let Bulma get accustomed to the wind whipping in her face before he accelerated, easily breaking the sound barrier. She laughed as they were followed by sonic booms and the ground raced beneath them in a blur of colors. Vegeta rose higher in the atmosphere and without warning released his hold on Bulma and stopped, allowing her to continue flying forward with nothing but momentum.

When her support disappeared behind her, Bulma started screaming and flailing her arms and legs even before she started falling down. Vegeta watched and darted after her when he figured he had let her panic long enough. He flew beneath her and let her land on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her again.

"Vegeta!" she shrieked, "You could give a girl some warning before you throw them into the sky." Her heart was beating furiously and she was panting as her lungs decided to work again and a healthy dose of adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Tell me you didn't have fun, Woman." Vegeta challenged her and spiraled through the air, leaving a golden trail behind. Bulma chuckled and nuzzled into his chest as she put her arms around him. She wasn't going to deny it, but she didn't want to do it again, either. At least not at the moment.

Vegeta's tail coiled around her waist and he sped up to his top speed and nosedived toward the ground. Bulma held her breath and closed her eyes as they dove. "Open your eyes," he told her gruffly. She cracked her eyes open and saw the ground approaching at a dizzying rate. She was about to scream again when he suddenly swooped back up in the air after coming mere inches from hitting the ground. She laughed and held on tighter as her fear gave way to complete trust in his ability to keep her safe. Flying with him was better than a roller coaster.

Sooner than Bulma would have liked they landed in the backyard of the compound and Vegeta released her. She fell back a couple steps and inhaled deeply. "Wow, that was amazing."

The absence of Bulma's slight weight in his arms came as an unexpectedly unpleasant sensation, which confused Vegeta greatly. He shook his head, chalking it up to his just having been without companionship for too long. At her comment he smirked and crossed his arms over his chest and swished his tail through the air behind him. "Of course it was."

She rolled her eyes at his predictable cockiness and grabbed his hand. "Come with me." She gently tugged his hand and led him to the side yard where the pool was. He raised his eyebrow at her but allowed her to pull him along until they were standing next to the pool. "Now you, Mr. Stinky, need to take a dip." Bulma threw all of her weight into pushing him over the edge and into the pale blue water.

Vegeta was completely taken by surprise as he fell backwards into the pool, but he was able to recover fast enough to wrap his tail around Bulma's waist as he fell, dragging her in with him. Bulma shrieked and flailed her arms as she was pulled in, but there was no way to fight his tail and avoid having her face meet water.

She broke the surface sputtering and gasping for air as she doggy-paddled to the edge of the pool. She tried to shake her head to get her long, wet locks out her face, but they were sticking there and she couldn't see anything. Unfortunately for her, Vegeta knew her dilemma and swam underneath her and grabbed her ankle, pulling her back under.

Bulma twisted around in the water to face her assailant and glared at him before trying to kick his smug expression off his face. But her movements were sluggish through the liquid medium and his reflexes would have saved him anyway. So he blocked her kick and sprang from the bottom of the pool with her held close so they resurfaced together.

Gasping for breath, Bulma held onto the sturdy saiyan and shivered in the cold water. "You b-big jerk!" she yelled through chattering teeth. "Why'd y-you d-do that?"

He smirked at her and wrapped his warm tail protectively around her waist. "You're the one who pushed me in first," he replied. "I just took you in with me." He snapped his teeth at her again when she stuck her tongue out at him. It was becoming a game for them. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to remove my person from this water. The chemicals are giving me a headache." He pulled Bulma along with him as he swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out.

The blue-haired woman giggled as he shook himself like a dog to rid his thick hair of the chlorine water. "You animal," she quipped.

He whirled around to face her and grinned. "You flatter me." He flicked his tail once to dry it and clear drops of water flew through the air like fireworks. Bulma giggled again as she wrung her hair out and threw it over her shoulder. The warm sun was drying the cold water from her skin and she sighed with relief.

Vegeta pulled his boots off and emptied them of water before putting them back on. "Are my quarters still equipped with clean garments and hygienic products?"

Bulma nodded. "It's basically the same as you left it."

"Good." Vegeta peeled the top of his bodysuit off so it hung around his hips. Bulma gasped and couldn't help but stare at his physique. It had always been impressive, god-like even, but it had never looked _this_ good. Vegeta noticed her staring and raised an eyebrow suggestively. "See something you like?"

"Uh huh," Bulma muttered before she could stop herself. She slapped her hand over her mouth before trying again. "I mean, you look good, 'Geta. I was worried you wouldn't take care of yourself. But it looks like you've gained a lot of muscle mass, and, you know. Stuff," she finished lamely. It was true; his muscles were more well-defined than they had been before, as if they had been sculpted out of marble. They weren't overly bulky, but they were bulging and rippling under his darkly tanned skin.

He chuckled and flexed his muscles a little, hardly registering the fact that he was showing off for her. "That's what a diet of raw meat freshly killed will do for a saiyan. And training in gravity hundreds of times greater than this mudball." He flicked his tongue over his canine to emphasize the part about eating uncooked animals.

Bulma pretended to gag. "You are so gross."

"You just have a weak stomach," he shot back. He snapped again when she stuck her tongue out. She jumped back and laughed at their childish antics.

"Maybe, or maybe I'm civilized. Speaking of which, you smell like a barbarian. Go shower, Stinky Tail." Bulma kicked his ass gently when he turned to go. He shot a look of amusement over his shoulder and went around the compound to the door and disappeared inside.

'He's so mellow,' she mused as she went back to the lounge chair she had been sitting in before he returned. 'It's like he came back a completely different person, yet he's still the same.'

As his bedroom door shut behind him he shook his head at his strange behavior with the woman. He had never acted that way before with anyone. Hell, he never acted that way alone. Even so, it didn't bother him as he would normally have expected it to. It seemed like something to do with a friend, a pack mate. He accepted that explanation, since it was mostly true anyway, and pulled his clothes off.

Vegeta got in the shower and turned the hot water on and sighed as it washed away months of dirt, sweat, and blood the streams on the forested planet had been unable to remove. He scrubbed himself with his scentless soap three times before he was satisfied with his cleanliness. He washed his hair and tail and stepped out of the shower. The reflection that he saw in the mirror stopped his thoughts as he stared open-mouthed much as Bulma had.

'No wonder she was staring,' he thought, amused. 'I look good.' He flexed his muscles as he had done by the pool and snickered. 'I'm surprised she didn't jump me.' He laughed harder at that thought and wrapped a towel around his hips. He had never been one to admire himself in the mirror and he wasn't about to start now. He walked out of the bathroom and pulled a pair of white training shorts out of a drawer and put them on.

Dressed enough for his taste, Vegeta went out to his balcony, leaped onto the rail, and stepped off, landing softly on the ground below in a crouch. He sniffed the air and snarled when an unpleasantly familiar scent reached his nose. He rose to his full height and walked around the compound until the weakling came into view. His tail lashed behind him once before it wrapped back around his waist.

Yamcha whirled around when he felt a powerful ki approaching from behind. He threw himself off balance as he had been in the middle of performing a kick and almost fell over. "Vegeta!" he shouted once he regained his balance, "What are you doing here?"

Vegeta scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you need to ask then I won't answer, Weakling."

The scar-faced warrior glared at the saiyan and balled his fists. "You think you can leave for months and then come back as if you were never gone? You're nuts!"

"Tell that to the Woman, you idiot. She invited me to come back. And she must have expected me to return because my quarters were kept exactly the way I left them." Vegeta grinned evilly and circled around the human like a cat playing with a mouse.

Yamcha took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and stared the shorter man down as best he could. He didn't want to get into another scuffle with him if he could help it. Especially if he was a super saiyan. Seriously, did he ever return to his base state or was he always ascended now that he could do it? Yamcha didn't know and didn't care to find out. He just wanted to get away from the saiyan before he got himself into trouble.

Vegeta watched as the weakling turned to walk away. He sniffed the air again, already forgetting the other warrior's presence. There it was, the sweet, floral scent of the blue-haired woman. He walked further around the compound and saw her lying in the sun roasting herself by the pool still. He rolled his eyes and strode over to her.

He gently smacked her ass with his tail to get her attention when she didn't acknowledge his presence. She nearly jumped into the air in her surprise before she rolled onto her back to see who had assaulted her. "Vegeta? What do you want?" she asked, but not with any irritation. Even if she wanted to be mad she couldn't when the man who had left her feeling somehow empty when he was gone was standing right in front of her, returning life to her dull eyes. It didn't hurt that he wasn't wearing a shirt, either.

He crawled on top of her and touched his forehead to hers before he answered, "I'm bored, Woman. Entertain me." His tail brushed against her ribs playfully and she laughed as he tickled her. At first she had been startled by his close proximity but then she remembered that, probably because of his saiyan culture, he did not recognize human barriers or personal space.

"Stop it, Vegeta!" she cried as she tried to push his hulking weight off of her tiny frame. "Why don't you go train or something?"

Vegeta nuzzled his face into her neck and breathed her scent in deeply. His breath tickled her neck when he answered, "I have trained every day I have been awake for the past year. I think it would be acceptable to take a day off. Or are you too busy for me, Woman?"

Bulma sighed and pressed her hands against his chest to tell him she needed a little more space than he was giving her. He raised himself slightly and cocked his head at her. "What am I going to do with you, you crazy saiyan?" she asked with a brilliant smile on her face. "At least you smell good now," she added absent-mindedly.

At her off-handed compliment Vegeta felt a rush of blood to his face and hid his blush in her neck. It meant a lot to a saiyan when their scent was praised and he hadn't expected it from her. He knew she didn't know complimenting his scent meant much, but it was still flattering.

The blue-haired woman didn't notice his bashfulness as she wrapped one arm around him and rubbed his back, gently tracing her fingers up and down his spine. She only realized what she was doing when she heard a low rumble in his chest that vibrated through her body. 'He's purring!' she thought happily, 'I almost forgot he would do that.' She felt him nuzzle into her neck more and grinned.

"You're like a big kitty sometimes," she teased.

"You mean like that little black ball of fluff that lives on your sire's shoulder?" he murmured into her ear.

Bulma laughed again. "No, I mean like a big, vicious tiger." She felt his smirk against her neck and knew she had stroked his ego. "I'm glad you're back, Vegeta. I missed you so much it was driving me crazy."

He raised his head so he could look her in the eye, his brows furrowed. "Why would you miss me, Woman? I'm not your friend or lover or anything. You know what I am: a saiyan, an animal. A murderer," he muttered softly.

She smiled sadly and ran her hand through his thick hair. How she had missed the feathery strands between her fingers! "I know what you are, Vegeta, and I accept that. You might not be my friend, but I'm yours, so it's practically my duty to miss you. But I would've anyway."

One side of Vegeta's mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile and he buried his face in her neck again. He started purring more when she resumed scratching his back lightly. "I did some terrible things while I was gone, though. I killed many people, soldiers in Cooler's army, mostly, but also civilians."

Bulma's hand stilled and she craned her neck so she could look at his face. There, sadly, was no deception in his eyes. He was telling her the truth, but he actually didn't sound proud of what he had done. He was looking to her for acceptance as a child might confess to breaking a rule to his mother when he realized what he did was wrong. "Who's Cooler?"

"Frieza's brother. He took over the empire when his father and brother were killed."

"Oh," she breathed, shocked that that monster could even _have_ a brother. "Well, as much as I don't condone killing, I don't mind you killing his soldiers _too_ much. The civilians, yes, but I'm sure you had your reasons."

This time Vegeta pulled back to look at her in disbelief. This angelic woman was telling him it was copacetic to kill someone because they were soldiers? He couldn't believe it. He was afraid maybe he had rubbed off on her, taken away some of her purity. "My reason was that I wanted to. They couldn't harm me, wouldn't have bothered me, but they were there." He sighed and continued, "But I will not kill senselessly anymore. I want you to know that. I spent a few months alone and sort of, what would you say? Rediscovered myself. I rediscovered what it means to be a saiyan, and it doesn't include killing for fun."

Bulma was confused by his revelation. She thought the saiyans had been a bloodthirsty warrior race who killed ruthlessly and without reason simply because they could. Apparently, he could see her thoughts through her eyes because he interrupted them.

"I know what you're thinking, Woman, and it is wrong. We always had the power to take life, but it was the honorable thing to refrain from exercising that power. Frieza enslaved the saiyans and twisted their need for battle into his weapon. He took their nobility and warped it into crazed bloodlust he used for his own purposes. Saiyans were different before that. I know, because my mother showed me what they used to be. I had simply forgotten after years of abuse, manipulation, and humiliation. You told me once that I have the potential to become a great man, that I can shape my own destiny. I will, and as their prince, I will redeem my people of their sins by living with honor as they would have had they been free as I am."

Vegeta's face was calm and serious as he spoke, and Bulma's heart leaped with joy. She knew he wasn't kidding around or just saying things to make her happy. Her brutally honest houseguest would never bother with that. Maybe going away had been the best thing he could have done. He seemed so stable now, and he had purpose in life again that wasn't _just_ fighting the androids and defeating Goku. She grinned when he finished and hugged him tightly. She _knew_ he had it in him to change, she _knew_ it! And he would still be himself, the same surly, proud prince, but he would have control over his bloodlust and he wouldn't kill pointlessly ever again. "Oh, Vegeta, I'm so proud of you," she murmured into his shoulder.

He pulled away from her and she laid back on the lounge chair again, looking up at him through blurred vision as her eyes filled with tears of joy. "Why do you cry, Woman? Have I said something wrong?" he asked, confused. He gently nipped her nose and rubbed his cheek against hers.

"No, Vegeta, I'm crying because I'm happy," she explained. "Humans cry for a whole bunch of different reasons, silly."

"I'm silly? I don't get all teary-eyed when I'm happy," he groused.

She chuckled. It sure was good to have her grumpy saiyan back.

_A/N: Since it's been brought up in a few reviews, I just want to put it out there that there will not be SSJ4 in this story. Yes, Vegeta has a tail, can still become Oozaru, can ascend to super saiyan, and has harnessed the power of the Oozaru, but he doesn't have enough power to make that jump yet. Here's how levels of super saiyan work (in my universe): you have to be able to ascend to SSJ before being able to go SSJ2. SSJ2 must come before SSJ3, but SSJ3 is not a necessary prerequisite for SSJ4; rather, it is a sort of substitute for saiyans without tails. That's why Vegeta can skip SSJ3. Still, it's not happening in this story because he hasn't made it to SSJ2. Ok, now that that's cleared up (I hope), I think it's funny that many reviewers thought Vegeta's power level was too _low_. Well, maybe, but I didn't want to make it absolutely ridiculous because then he'd be around SSJ2 already. And anyway, his power is _different_ because of the Oozaru thing, not necessarily a lot higher than Goku's power. Even if they were at the exact same level, Vegeta would be stronger because power level isn't everything. The nature of the power makes a huge difference too. Consider when Vegeta became Majin Vegeta. Though he was only SSJ2, Goku claimed not to be able to approach it. I say this is because it was evil/magical, not because it was too high._

_Song: "Come Back" by Foo Fighters_


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_Ooh I've been wandering round  
But I still come back to you  
In rain or shine  
You've stood by me, girl  
I'm happy, happy at home  
You're my best friend_

"Vegeta, what the hell?"

The saiyan's head snapped up and his tail quickly wrapped around his waist as he looked for the threat that had interrupted his peaceful moment with the blue-haired woman. Then his eyes landed on the scar-faced warrior. He bared his teeth and growled, the vibrations sending chills down Bulma's spine as she looked around to see what was going on.

"What do you want, Weakling?" he spat, never moving from his position on top of Bulma.

Yamcha glared at him and kept walking toward them, fists clenched at his sides. "I want to know what the hell you're doing to Bulma!"

"Yamcha, shut up!" Bulma yelled over her shoulder since she was still pinned down by Vegeta's tremendous weight. "We're just talking."

The human male finally reached them and glowered at his girlfriend. "Just talking? He's on top of you, Bulma! That sends a few red flags flying. He doesn't need to lie on top of you to talk!" His voice broke as it reached the peak of his voice range in his anger.

Vegeta's tail bristled and uncoiled from his waist to lash angrily behind him. Bulma felt more than heard his growl intensify in warning as he snarled at her boyfriend. His muscles had tensed and he looked like a tiger ready to pounce. "Back off, Weakling," he hissed through clenched teeth. "It is as the woman said. We were talking, so you're not wanted here."

Bulma felt the need to defuse the situation before it turned into another fight between the two. She had a feeling that Vegeta wouldn't pull any punches, and in his super saiyan state he could easily kill Yamcha without intending to. She did the only thing she knew how to since he wasn't going to listen to her protests: she wrapped her arms around him and started scratching her fingers along his spine again. She felt a ripple of tension move through his body that left relaxation in its wake and his growling was replaced with his deep purr. "Come on, Vegeta," she cajoled in his ear, "Just drop it. You can resist the urge to kill him, can't you?" She was rewarded with a smirk and his tail smoothing down and wrapping around her thigh.

Yamcha watched in disgust as his girlfriend calmed the angry saiyan right in front of him. His fury rose as Vegeta's ebbed away. He was already on the breaking point when he saw Bulma raise herself to whisper something in the prince's ear, and that was the last straw. He powered up his ki as high as it could go and shouted, "What are you doing, Bulma? Cuddling? Flirting? And you're the one who accused me of cheating! You're doing it right in front of me!"

Two blue sets of eyes snapped up to his black ones and he shrank back a little. There was hostility in one and mild amusement in the other. What threw him off was which look was in which pair of eyes. "Yamcha," Bulma said, her voice cold and calm. Yamcha gulped; he knew that tone too well, and it only meant bad things were to come. She continued, "I am Vegeta's friend and nothing more. You are my boyfriend and I would never, ever cheat on you. Now you had better calm down right now or I'm going to have him beat some sense into you. If you want to fight, I can't stop you, but I suggest you stop right now."

Vegeta's tail tightened around her thigh as he smirked triumphantly at the scar-faced warrior. Apparently the woman could put him in his place even when he couldn't. It was sweet to see her on his side for once, and he was basking in the moment. To add insult to injury he lowered his face to Bulma's and rubbed his cheek against hers again. He knew the human wouldn't understand its significance, but he was scent marking her as his pack mate.

Yamcha's face turned from angry to hurt as he watched the display. Everything had been fine between him and Bulma, but now that the saiyan was back things were going to be strained. He growled in frustration and slapped his arms against his sides. Why did that fucking saiyan have to go and ruin _everything?_ He just couldn't win! He knew deep down that Bulma would never cheat on him, but it was hard to remember that when she was underneath another man in a very compromising position. And was that his tail around her thigh? What was that about?

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, "Don't patronize him, please."

He sighed and nodded before pushing himself up into a sitting position between the woman's legs. He glared at the human male and bared his sharp canine in contempt. Yamcha took a step back but otherwise held his ground. He was determined not to let himself be intimidated by the saiyan, no matter how ridiculously powerful he was.

"Are you done with your whining now, human?" Vegeta asked in a bored tone that let the other warrior know he had been dismissed as a threat. That really ticked him off. He might not be a super saiyan, but he wasn't completely powerless!

Yamcha drew himself up to his full height before replying, "As a matter of fact, I'm not, you monkey." He smirked when he saw a flicker of anger in the prince's eyes. "I don't know what you learned as Frieza's _pet_, but around here you don't get all close and cuddly with another man's woman. So get away from her."

A low growl rose in volume as Yamcha's little speech continued, reaching its peak at the word 'pet.' Vegeta slowly rose from the chair and drew himself to his full height as the earthling warrior had just done. Despite his short stature, his demeanor was much more imposing and it struck a chord of fear in the taller man's gut. "First of all, I was no one's pet," he spat, "and second, you are not a man, therefore I think your rule doesn't apply. Now back. Off." His tail lashed angrily behind him before it wrapped around Bulma's thigh again.

Bulma saw Yamcha's eyes flicker to the furry appendage and sighed as she tried to pry it off. She may as well have been trying to uncoil a steel rod. It didn't really bother her to have it there, but she could see that it only made problems with her furious boyfriend worse. Unable to forcibly remove it, she started stroking it gently.

Vegeta nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her ministrations on his tail and quickly jerked it away from her and wrapped it around his waist. He gave her an irritated glance before turning back to the scar-faced warrior. She knew that her actions would come back to bite her in the ass, but she needed to try to get Yamcha to calm down a little before he either had an aneurysm or got himself killed in a fight with the saiyan.

She spoke again when she saw both of them slowly moving into their fighting stances as they sized each other up. "Yamcha, cool it. Vegeta's strong enough to kill you with one hit, so just stop, you idiot. Go inside and cool off. I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

Yamcha didn't acknowledge her for a while before finally he nodded slowly and gave Vegeta the ugliest scowl he could muster. Then he turned and stomped off to the compound, grumbling angrily about saiyans ruining his life.

Bulma watched him go and saw Vegeta's tension unwinding out of the corner of her eye. She sighed with relief and asked quietly, "Why are you so mean to him, Vegeta?"

He snorted and sat between her legs again before wrapping his tail around her thigh. "He is a fool. I suppose he left a bad taste in my mouth with his cocky attitude during our first battle."

She almost laughed at that. "Him? Cocky? You're the king of cocky!"

He tilted his head to the side as he considered that and smirked. "There is a difference between cocky and proud. I actually have something to back up my attitude." He moved on top of her again and nuzzled into her neck.

"Why _do _you cuddle, anyway? It doesn't seem like something a tough guy would do."

Vegeta chuckled and answered, "Was that fool not lying when he said it is human custom to keep away from another person? It is expected of pack mates to 'cuddle' as you call it, for a variety of reasons."

"Like what?"

"I'm marking you as a member of my pack with my scent. I can protect you easier when I'm close to you. Packs would stay warm by sleeping together, et cetera."

"What do you mean pack member? I'm not a saiyan."

He sighed and pulled back to look at her directly. "That is obvious, Woman. But since there are no more saiyans I have to form a pack with another species. That is something else I have come to realize about saiyans. They were communal people. We don't function well outside of packs. I always had one, whether I recognized it as such or not, when I was with Nappa and Raditz. You call yourself my friend. I would say that is the equivalent of pack mate."

Bulma smiled and nodded her head in understanding. "That makes sense. I'm honored to be a member of your pack, Vegeta."

Vegeta snorted and rested his head on her chest. "You're the one who chose to accept the loner, Woman. You drew me into your pack when I had no one. So I guess, vicariously, your pack has become mine, though I may not accept them all. Like that idiot weakling."

She cocked her head and started scratching his back again. "But you don't even like my friends."

Another snort. "Not especially, no. But I trust them as allies, as long as they respect me."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by his purring. She loved the sensation the vibrations sent through her body; they seemed to take away all her tension and stress and slowed her racing thoughts. His purring was a sound she could listen to all day and never grow tired of as it soothed her and let her know that he was enjoying himself too.

Bulma sighed when she remembered she had promised Yamcha to meet him inside. Several minutes had already passed and he was probably fuming again over her absence. She put her hands on Vegeta's chest again to let him know she wanted him to move off her. Silently he complied, sitting back up and watching as she also rose and swung her legs off the chair with his tail still around her thigh.

"I need to go inside and talk to Yamcha," she told him.

Vegeta rolled his eyes but let her leg go and watched her stand up and walk toward the compound. He wanted to follow but knew his presence would set the other warrior off again and make the blue-haired woman mad at him, and he didn't want to listen to her screaming. And so he stayed by the pool and meditated while he waited for her to return.

Inside, Bulma found Yamcha sulking in the living room. The TV was on but he wasn't really watching, tipping her off to his sour disposition. "Hey Yam," she said softly as she sat next to him on the couch. He didn't turn to look at her so she continued, "Listen, I know it looked bad, but it's not. That's just how he acts with me. I'm his pack mate."

That got the scar-faced warrior's attention and he turned to her with an expression crossed between skepticism and confusion. "A pack mate? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I guess, for a saiyan, a pack's a sort of family. A group of saiyans who live together and fight together – a really close unit. Look, I know you two don't get along, but I'm his friend, ok?"

Yamcha frowned at her and turned back to the TV. "I don't see why you waste your time on him. He doesn't deserve it, he's a cold-hearted murderer! What if he turns on you?" he demanded, his voice again rising with his passionate dislike for the other man.

Bulma slapped his arm. "He wouldn't do that. I don't care if you believe it or not, but he has honor – and he's changed! He won't murder anymore."

Yamcha sneered but said nothing. He didn't really want to argue with Bulma since things had finally started running smoothly between them again, but he didn't trust the saiyan prince, and he feared for her safety with him staying at the compound. There would be nothing he could do to intervene if Vegeta decided to hurt her, and that both scared and shamed him. It was painful knowing how much stronger the saiyan was and that he had no hope of ever catching up in power.

"Would you just give him a chance, for me?" She didn't expect Yamcha and Vegeta to ever be friendly toward one another, but she was honestly getting tired of the open hostility between them. They could never be in the same place without some sort of fight breaking out.

He refused to look at her, knowing she was again giving him the puppy dog eyes. He stubbornly crossed his arms and set his mouth in a straight line. Why should he give him a chance? Call him petty, but he held a bit of a grudge against Vegeta for killing him. That was kind of a hard offense to forgive, even for a saint - which Yamcha never claimed to be - and the saiyan had done little, if anything, to redeem himself in his sight.

Bulma sighed and stood. Obviously he wasn't going to listen and she decided not to allow his pouting to ruin her good mood. "Fine, if you're going to act like a child then I'll go hang out with Vegeta. At least when he's not training he pays attention to me." She turned on her heel and stalked out of the living room and caught sight of her mother entering the kitchen.

'I should tell her Vegeta's back. She'll be more excited than I was and will want to make him a huge dinner,' Bulma thought as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

Mrs. Brief was leaning into the refrigerator to pull the lemonade out when she heard the kitchen door swing shut. "Bulma, is that you dear? Would you like some lemonade? I just bought some cakes from the bakery – they're on the table."

Bulma smiled and rolled her eyes at her mother's one train of thought: food. It was no wonder she liked saiyans so much. "Sure, Mom. I have some news you might be interested in," she said nonchalantly as she picked a slice of lemon cake out of the box.

"What's that sweetie?" Mrs. Brief poured two glasses of lemonade and set one down in front of Bulma, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Vegeta came back today and he's going to stay with us again."

The blonde woman almost dropped the muffin she was raising to her mouth. "Mr. Vegeta? Oh that's wonderful, honey! He's such a sweet, handsome young man. Oh my, I'll have to go to the grocery and get all his favorite foods and make him a big 'welcome back' dinner!" She prattled on while Bulma only half-listened, happy that at least someone at the compound shared her joy in his return. Bulma finished her piece of cake and grabbed her glass of lemonade as she quietly excused herself to go back outside where she had left the saiyan prince.

She found Vegeta still sitting by the pool with his eyes closed, and she wondered if he had fallen asleep based on his slow, steady breathing. That would be amazing, she figured, since he was still a super saiyan. Could he stay ascended even at rest?

When she reached her hand out to poke him his tail wound tightly around her wrist and held her hand away. 'Same Vegeta: on guard even if he looks dead to the world.' She smiled a little and tried to free herself from his tail's grip. After struggling for a couple minutes he finally released her and opened his eyes to look at her.

"Are you finished coddling that weakling?" he asked as he pulled her down next to him.

Bulma snuggled next to him and nodded. "Yeah, I'm done talking to him until he decides to act his age."

Vegeta smirked and coiled his tail around her waist. He could tell that her cheerfulness was at least partly a façade and that she was upset about something that happened with the weakling. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her, if only from emotional distress. His pack instincts were kicking in full force and he was learning to stop fighting them since he had chosen to be true to his saiyan heritage. And that meant acknowledging the feelings that came along with his instincts, no matter how annoying they may be.

"Don't let that fool get to you, Woman. You're better than that." He put his arm around her and drew her in closer, ignoring the look of shock she gave him for his attempt at consolation.

Bulma rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled his strong, wild scent that no soap could wash away. "So if you're my pack mate, doesn't that make you my friend now, too?"

Vegeta's eyebrows shot up in surprise at that question. It was hard for him to consider himself anything that would tie him to another, but he knew he had to get used to it. He couldn't live separate from everyone forever, and he had already admitted to considering himself her pack mate. So, by rough translation, that made their friendship reciprocal. He swallowed and nodded his head, not finding the strength to voice his answer.

"Good. Because I think you're a great friend, Vegeta."

"Hn."

Bulma nudged him with her shoulder for his noncommittal answer and chuckled as he nudged her back. He was in a playful mood and that lifted her spirits. He could have come back to Earth angry and ready to kill someone, but from the moment she saw him by his space pod, he had been mostly good-natured and calm.

"So what do you want to do if you're not training?"

"You tell me."

That's right. He still didn't know how humans entertained themselves and needed her to teach him. Bulma thought for a while about what she could do with Vegeta that wouldn't spoil his good humor. Oddly enough, she wasn't even concerned about what Yamcha would think of her going off somewhere with him for the day.

"I don't know. Personally, I'd rather stay outdoors, since it's such a beautiful day. What do you think?"

"I would agree remaining outside is preferable." He closed his eyes and let out a purr as she absent-mindedly moved her hand to his back and started scratching again. His tail let go of her waist and stretched out behind him until only the tip was curled and beating slowly against the chair.

"We could go to the park," she suggested. It wasn't the most original idea, but she knew that he liked it there well enough. At least, he seemed to like it last time they went there together.

"That is acceptable. But only if you put some clothes on, Woman."

Bulma blushed and nudged him again. "Why, would you get jealous when all the other men drool over me?" She raised her eyebrow at him and laughed when he rolled his eyes.

"I do not want to have to defend you from a bunch of hormonal boys."

"Fine, fine, you got me there. Go put some shoes on while I get dressed." She shrieked in surprise when he picked her up and flew them up to her balcony. When he set her down she wobbled a little on her legs and leaned against the rail for support. "A little warning next time, please," she admonished him. She shook her head at his smirk and went inside.

Vegeta leapt from her balcony to his and went into his room to put on socks and shoes. He didn't feel any particular need to put a shirt on since it was blistering hot outside and apparently humans found it socially acceptable for males to show themselves without one. So, with shoes on his feet, he went back out to his balcony and jumped over to Bulma's.

He sprawled out on his stomach on the rail of her balcony and waited for her to finish getting dressed, his tail twitching lazily at his side. From inside he could hear her muttering comments about the selection of clothes in her closet and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't understand why she kept garments she didn't like for whatever reason: too tight, too loose, had a stain, so last season, etc. Finally he heard the sound of clothes brushing against skin and knew she had chosen something to wear. He didn't really care what, but he was anxious to get going before the entire day was wasted.

Bulma walked back out on the balcony wearing almost obscenely short yellow running shorts, a white tank top, and white running shoes. Vegeta turned his head to see her and, after looking her over, wondered why it had taken so long to choose such a simple outfit. He shrugged his shoulders at his unspoken question and sat up on the rail while she pulled her hair into a messy bun. "Are you ready now, Woman? You've kept me waiting long enough."

"Oh hush. It was _maybe_ five minutes," she said as she smacked his shoulder. He wanted to disagree with her but figured it wasn't worth the trouble. "Anyway, I'm ready to go as soon as I grab a couple things." Bulma motioned for him to come with her so he hopped off the rail and went with her back into her room. She picked up a navy blue gymsack and continued out her door and downstairs to the kitchen.

As Vegeta followed his tail twitched behind him with impatience and curiosity. But nothing too interesting happened as the woman pulled two cold bottles of water out of the refrigerator and put them in her bag before slinging it over her shoulders. He sighed with vague disappointment at the letdown his curious nature felt and walked out of the kitchen to the front door with Bulma at his side.

"So," she said before pausing for effect to catch his attention, "You've been gone a long time, mister. But I've been jogging almost every day for a few months, so maybe I can keep up with you better now. So let's jog to the park." She smiled and closed the front door behind her.

He smirked at her and shook his head. "You'll never keep up with me, Woman. But you can try." As he walked past her to the front gate he bumped his shoulder into hers, almost knocking her off her feet.

"Hey!" she yelled as she ran after him to the gate. She wasn't really mad at him, but that didn't mean she was going to spare him a little high-volume rebuking. "That wasn't nice, Vegeta. You could kill someone doing that, you're worse than a train!"

"Shut up, Woman. Or I'll leave you in the dust." He threw her an irritated glance over his shoulder and his tail flicked once to further show his annoyance at her tone before he wrapped it loosely around his waist and waited for her to catch up to him.

When she reached his side she started out at a steady pace that wasn't too fast but not as slow as she had gone the one time they actually got around to jogging together. Vegeta kept up with her easily and was impressed by how much she had improved. After a mile she wasn't breathing very hard and her ki wasn't fluctuating wildly, which meant she had plenty of energy still. He wondered how far she could go before tiring at the pace she had chosen.

They weren't talking, but both were enjoying themselves just being in each other's presence. He was still craving interaction with sentient species and she was thrilled that her friend had finally returned to Earth and didn't hate her. And so the only sound was that of their feet on the ground, their even breathing, and the occasional car passing by on the street.

Yamcha was still brooding in the living room when he sensed Vegeta leaving the compound. The idea of the prince leaving for whatever reason made his mood lighten since the saiyan's incredible ki masked the smaller one of a certain blue-haired woman accompanying him. The scar-faced warrior decided that with Vegeta gone, he could go find Bulma and spend time with her and show her that he held no hard feelings for what happened earlier.

When he tried to feel her ki out, though, she was nowhere to be found. He couldn't sense anyone, actually. Mrs. Brief had gone shopping and Dr. Brief was working in his office at the headquarters building that day. He was alone, and that didn't set well with him. If Bulma wasn't at the compound anywhere, she was most likely with the demon prince himself. He growled and threw the remote at the TV, breaking the screen. He didn't even notice the damage he caused because he was already out of the room and out the front door on a mission to save his girlfriend from the atrocious company of Vegeta.

Bulma and Vegeta had been jogging for nearly four miles and she was still going strong. Needless to say, Vegeta showed no signs of tiring as he was breathing normally and he was barely sweating, and that was mostly because of the heat of the day rather than his exercise. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and groaned in exasperation at his impossible endurance. It took her months to make as much progress as she had and he had probably been born with the ability to go further and faster than she could! She shook that thought from her head and focused on her breathing and keeping her speed steady.

Vegeta, meanwhile, was watching the blue-haired woman when she wasn't looking his way. He noticed the sweat glistening on her bare skin and the way her hair bounced with each stride she took. He could see that her small frame had filled out somewhat with muscle since the last time he had seen her, but it was by no means bulky. Actually, her toned physique was much more attractive to him than when she was slim but soft. He didn't allow his mind to linger in that area for too long, though. He had noticed her beauty before, way back on Namek even, but it never really mattered to him. He had seen plenty of beautiful women and thought nothing of it, no matter how exquisitely exotic their coloring was.

After another mile the entrance to the city park came into view and the two jogged side by side through it and down a narrow dirt trail toward the small forest that led to the lake. The sun was mostly blocked out by the canopy above as they ran through the trees. It reminded Vegeta of the quiet planet he had left behind and he closed his eyes as a rush of memories played across his mind's eye. They were so vivid he could have almost smelled the sweet fruit, the alien animals, the clear water…

"Vegeta?"

His eyes snapped open and he tilted his head toward the woman next to him to show she had his attention.

"What're you thinking about? You look like you've gone somewhere else mentally."

Vegeta's head dipped in a slight nod but it was a long while before he answered her question. "I was thinking about the planet I went to when I left here. The forest here reminded me of it, vaguely. The whole planet was a thick forest except a small ocean from which all the rivers and streams ran. There were no sentient beings, only animals."

"And you spent months there? With no one to talk to? I know you're a solitary kind of guy, but that seems extreme," Bulma said with some difficulty as she was starting to pant from her physical exertion.

The saiyan smiled a little and answered, "It was what I needed at the time."

She didn't voice her agreement, but she couldn't deny that what he said was true. When he left Earth he was a wreck mentally. He was definitely a different person. He still had a temper that could easily match her own, but he could keep it in check. Overall, he seemed calmer and more relaxed, even amicable. It made her happy seeing him finally being able to enjoy life instead of always taking things so seriously and expecting threats to jump at him from around every corner. Isolation certainly didn't sound like much fun to her, but the saiyan was right. It was what he needed if it was what led to his drastic change.

They ran on in companionable silence, unaware of – or not caring about – the scar-faced warrior heading straight for them.

_A/N: Dear reviewers,_

_I want you to know that any Bulma/Vegeta relationship is still a long way off. Yamcha isn't going away that easily, and Vegeta is _not _a rebound. Have patience as their strange relationship unfolds._

_Sincerely,  
__LPphreek_

_P.S. Review!_

_P.P.S. I regret to inform you that updates are going to be slower for a while. I'm very overloaded with my classes right now, and this is going to have to move down on my priorities._

_Song: "My Best Friend" by Queen_


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_I don't mind you going out with your friends,  
If it's to places where we've both been  
But I don't like you going with him,  
Don't wanna have to say this again_

The sun was shining brightly on West City Park, its rays bouncing off the deep blue surface of the lake. Mothers with their children and old couples were gathering on its shores to feed the ducks, play, and visit with friends. The atmosphere was serene as the only sounds were of laughing, chatting, the water lapping at the sandy banks, and the breeze blowing through the trees.

Bulma and Vegeta had just finished a circuit around the lake when she slowed down and gasped out, "Alright…Vegeta… I need…to stop." She came to a halt and bent over with her hands on her knees as she panted for the oxygen her muscles were deprived of. Vegeta stopped next to her and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Their jog hadn't been strenuous in the least, but it was an exceptionally hot day. In honesty, he was surprised she was able to go as far as she did.

"Like I said," he teased, "you'll never be able to keep up with me. That was a nice warm-up, though."

"Shut up," she panted. "That was over eight miles. I'm getting better."

Vegeta inclined his head in a sort of half nod at that. He wasn't going to praise her, but he wouldn't deny that she had improved greatly since the last time they jogged together and she couldn't even make it a full mile. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the woman to finish regaining her breath so they could get on with whatever they were going to do. He couldn't help but wish he was immersed in real nature, not some small island of forest in the midst of a city with thousands of people swarming around it. His mind again started drifting back to the planet he left a few months ago, almost wishing he hadn't left so soon. There was still more than enough time before the androids would come… However, if he hadn't left, he would still be very much alone, and he had to admit, if only to himself, that he was enjoying the company of the woman at his side. He sighed slightly as he reminded himself of his reasoning for leaving solitude before he needed to, only barely able to confess to himself that he was in some way happier in his present location.

Bulma pulled the bag off her back and took the water bottles out, handing one to Vegeta. She opened hers and started drinking like there was no tomorrow. He watched with mild amusement as water dripped down her chin and she pulled the bottle away gasping for air again. He shook his head and opened his own bottle and drank it all in three gulps. When she had finished her water off, Bulma walked away from the trail a few paces and sat down in the soft green grass and started stretching. She considered telling her saiyan companion to do the same so she wouldn't feel so awkward doing it by herself with him looming over her, but figured he wouldn't be willing no matter how much she begged.

The saiyan stood near her, his tail twitching slowly behind him as he waited for her to finish her cool down. He felt out her ki and frowned slightly. "You need to drink more soon, Woman. You're dehydrated."

She looked up at him questioningly and shrugged. "Ok, I guess. There's probably a vendor somewhere around here selling drinks." After a minute of reclining in the cool shade, she stood up and patted the grass off her shorts. "You know, I kind of miss your black hair," she said offhandedly as she slung her bag back onto her shoulders.

"Hn."

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head as she looked into his blue-green eyes. "I thought you weren't training today. Doesn't staying a super saiyan count as training?"

"Not really. It hardly puts a strain on my body anymore," he replied nonchalantly. It was true, after all. He had ascended when he took her back to Capsule Corp earlier in the afternoon so he hardly even noticed the extra ki his body was using. A couple hours was nothing compared to several days. If she hadn't reminded him that he was ascended, he probably would have forgotten until he saw a reflection of himself. Being a super saiyan was as natural as breathing to him now.

"Oh," she mouthed. "Well, doesn't your body use more energy when you're transformed?"

"Hn."

"Then maybe you should go back to normal. I know you eat more when you've used a lot of energy and my mom's probably not thinking about making a meal big enough for a super saiyan. So if you don't want to go hungry, stop wasting more energy than you need to on your day off."

His eyes widened slightly at the thought of not getting enough food to satisfy his hunger. He could just imagine the sharp pangs of hunger and shuddered. "Fine then." As he exhaled slowly his ki dropped and he returned to his base state, his teal eyes turning coal black and his golden mane deepening to raven. He wrapped his brown tail around his waist and smirked. He hardly perceived any difference in his body.

Bulma noticed that his muscles decreased in size a little, but they were still impressive and larger than they had been before his excursion in space. "I always did like my men dark and mysterious," she said and winked at him. It wasn't until after she said it that she realized she was actually flirting with him a little. Tucking that thought away she chided herself for her behavior and made a mental note to stop doing that. She'd already paid him several compliments that were surely inflating his already oversized ego. Strangely, she didn't really feel guilty about flirting because she already had a boyfriend.

Vegeta snorted and wrapped his tail around her thigh. "Speaking of 'your men,' that fool weakling is going to be here in three, two, one…"

Yamcha landed in front of Vegeta and Bulma, fists clenched at his sides and a deep scowl on his face. His eyes darted to the possessive hold the saiyan had on his girlfriend and snarled. He had been rubbed the wrong way by the arrogant prince a few too many times for one day and wasn't going to take it anymore. His ego demanded requital. Bulma nearly fell back in surprise at his sudden appearance, but Vegeta's tail steadied her on her feet. Having regained her balance, Bulma quirked an eyebrow and moved her hands to her hips. His sudden appearance was not particularly welcome after their argument earlier. It seemed like he was purposely ruining any attempts she made at having a good time with Vegeta.

"What do you want _now, _weakling?" Vegeta spat as his tail bristled slightly.

The scar-faced man ignored the saiyan and directed his full attention on his girlfriend. "What are you doing here with him?" he demanded angrily. Sure, she said she was going to spend time with Vegeta after their little disagreement, but he didn't think that meant she was going to leave the compound with him. For some reason that added insult to injury, maybe because he knew people would recognize her and see that she wasn't with _him_.

Bulma groaned and smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "If you really want to know, we just went for a jog, ok? Honestly, Yamcha, stop acting so jealous! I'm really not in the mood for this right now."

"I can't believe this. You get pissed at me for looking at other girls and you run around town, literally, with a monster!" Yamcha shouted, gesticulating his arms wildly to show his aggravation. "What's with the double standard?"

"That's different," Bulma retorted icily.

Yamcha's face contorted into a deep scowl as he balled his hands into fists. The grinding of his teeth was practically audible as he forced himself to keep his anger in check. "No, Bulma, it's not different. You're being a total hypocrite!" he roared.

Bulma actually flinched back a little at his tone of voice. Vegeta growled and moved his tail up to her waist and drew her closer to him. The tone the weakling was using was threatening her and he didn't appreciate it. He may be her boyfriend or whatever, but he didn't care if he was going to treat her this way. She was his pack mate and he was going to protect her against anyone who tried to hurt her. "Back off, human."

Yamcha straightened his posture so he could look down on the shorter man. He might not be as strong, but he had a height advantage that he was going to use. "No, you back off, monkey boy," he yelled, throwing caution to the wind, "She's my girlfriend and I don't want you hurting her!"

Vegeta didn't think that remark was worthy of a response. As if he would ever harm the woman! He'd come to the realization that she was his one and only real pack mate. As such, hurting her was the last thing he would ever do. If anyone looked like they were going to hurt her, it was the scar-faced idiot, not him. He could feel his instinctual drive to protect her surfacing full force. Baring his teeth at the weaker warrior, he settled with a nonverbal warning for him to stand down.

Bulma looked around and saw their little scene was drawing the attention of a small crowd and her face burned red in embarrassment and anger. "Yamcha, you idiot! He's not going to hurt me, so don't even try to pull that shit. Vegeta is my friend and I will _not_ let you talk to or about him like that, so go fuck off! If you can't trust me then it's over. I was not doing and never would do anything with Vegeta romantically. You're overreacting!" There was a bright flash of light and Bulma groaned in exasperation. "Not the fucking paparazzi, not now. Why do they _always _ find me at the most inopportune time?"

No one answered her question since Vegeta and Yamcha were too busy staring each other down. She felt the familiar rumbling resonating through the saiyan's chest and rolled her eyes. They were worse than children, always picking fights and for what? Nothing! She had long since given up the hope that they would eventually get along, but this was not the time or the place for another of their testosterone-driven squabbles. If it weren't for the fact that a fight between them could easily turn deadly, she might have been flattered that she was the subject of their constant bickering because each wanted her all to himself. But she was ignoring the reason for their current disagreement, instead taking a greater interest in ending it immediately.

Yamcha looked from the saiyan to his girlfriend and back. She was willing to give up on their relationship for _him_? That couldn't be right. He shook his head and tried to convince himself that he had just heard wrong. But her words were echoing through his head and he knew she was serious. One thing she demanded in their relationship was trust from him, which he had to admit he wasn't giving her at the time. He sighed and unclenched his fists. "I'm sorry, B. I do trust you, but I don't trust him. You can't honestly expect me to, can you? He killed me! Or have you forgotten that minor detail?"

The blue-haired woman pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She sighed when another camera flash lit up the area followed by several more until there was a constant flicker of flashbulbs. "Fine, Yamcha, we'll talk about this later. Go back to the compound and for Kami's sake _stop_ trying to instigate a fight! I'm tired of dealing with this drama." She turned to walk away, but Yamcha reached out and grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving.

"But Bulma, he's—you can't trust him! Please, come back with me."

"No, I'm spending the afternoon with my _friend_. You had your chance earlier and you blew it. Now go, I'll see you at dinner." Bulma pulled her arm free and gave him a cold glare until he stepped back and gave her more space. She was not going to let him push her around. She couldn't see what the big deal was anyway. Vegeta had _never_ hurt her before, why would he start now, after vowing never to kill again without a damn good reason? In her mind, Yamcha was being too controlling – if not paranoid. She could understand that he didn't like Vegeta very well; he was right, he _did_ kill him. But that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to spend time with the saiyan, especially after he had been gone for almost a whole year!

Yamcha sighed and shook his head in defeat. Without another word he turned away from her and the saiyan prince and walked into a more secluded place where he could fly away without being seen. He hated the idea of leaving her behind with Vegeta, but he was scared she would follow through with her threat to break up with him if he pushed her any further for the time being. Considering how weak their relationship had been lately, he wasn't willing to put any more strain on it. He would figure out a way to get Vegeta away from her later.

Vegeta noticeably relaxed when the other warrior was gone. His bristled tail smoothed out but didn't unwind from Bulma's waist. He turned to glare at the crowd snapping pictures and smirked evilly when he saw them backpedal under the ferocity of his gaze. He might not hurt them physically, but he could make them wish he would put them out of their misery with just a look. It was satisfying to know that he was still intimidating even though his reputation was not known on the pathetic mudball.

"Let's get out of here, Vegeta," Bulma muttered when she had had quite enough of cameras flashing in her face, making her see colorful spots all over everything.

He nodded and gathered her in his arms before running off faster than the eye could see. Probably he would have his ear chewed off for showing his superhuman speed, but at least he hadn't flown that time. When he reached the other side of the lake he stopped and set her down.

Bulma grabbed her head with her hands and steadied her wobbly legs. "What happened?" she murmured as she looked around. That's not what the scenery looked like a second ago. She frowned. "Vegeta, did you just show the fucking paparazzi your powers?" Of course she couldn't be grateful for him getting her away from them. He sighed.

"What, is running considered superhuman?" The tip of his tail twitched in irritation before he wrapped it loosely around his waist. Maybe he should have left her behind to deal with the idiot paparazzi and save himself from having to listen to her incessant complaining.

"Only when you do it," she grumbled. "But thanks. Sometimes it sucks being rich and famous. And beautiful. That only makes it worse."

"Hn."

"I can't wait to see what stories are going to be floating around the media about that little argument," she said sarcastically while she threw her arms into the air dramatically. For some reason her relationship was a topic of interest in the media, so this new scoop was bound to hit the news stations fast and there would be countless articles about it in the newspapers and magazines tomorrow. It was for that reason that she was often reluctant to go out in public with her boyfriend because they drew so much unwanted attention when she preferred to keep her private life just that: private.

"What does it matter?" Vegeta pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent and rubbed his cheek against hers as he had done earlier. "Their opinions are of no concern."

Bulma chuckled and pulled away from the saiyan who was trying to exchange their scents to mark them as pack mates. "No, I guess not. Still, it's annoying. Surely you have experience with people spreading rumors about you to try and ruin your reputation?"

One side of his mouth turned down and she saw a flicker of long-past hurt in his onyx eyes. "Mostly stories about me involved Frieza and how he tortured me. For a bunch of soldiers, the men on Frieza's ship did enjoy gossiping a lot. And I was their favorite subject because I was beaten and humiliated regularly." His tone was casual but Bulma could tell that, at least at some point, he had been deeply bothered by others slandering his name by calling him weak. He could ignore any insult so long as it didn't attack his strength and merit as a warrior.

She frowned and leaned against his chest, unaware of her rubbing her scent on him as a sign of wanting to defend him. "That would be funny if it weren't for the fact that you were the butt of the joke. A bunch of big, tough soldiers gossiping like a bunch of old ladies. Did they discuss the latest fashions and make predictions on who would hook up with whom?"

Vegeta smirked, somehow comforted by her attempt to find humor in a humorless topic. "Of course. Especially that fool Captain Ginyu. He was always rambling about 'style,'" he said, mocking Ginyu's gravelly voice, "and which soldiers were fucking. The sad part was he was usually right on when it came to that." Vegeta's nose wrinkled at the memory. He never was interested in the sex lives of his fellow soldiers, but somehow he always ended up learning about them and it almost never failed to disgust him.

Bulma couldn't help it; she broke into a fit of laughter when she pictured that hideous purple alien talking about such things. And the way Vegeta said 'style' was just too much. "You mean that loathsome little frog?" She imagined the body-stealing alien from Namek whispering rumors to other soldiers who leaned in and snickered along with him as he crassly suggested the relationship statuses of others.

This time it was Vegeta's turn to laugh as he nodded. Yes, the mighty Captain Ginyu had tried to switch bodies with him and ended up in a frog's body. And for some reason both the frog in Ginyu's body and Ginyu in the frog's body were transported to Earth with the rest of the people on Namek. Seeing the purple, horned man hopping around on his hands and feet and eating flies was greater revenge than killing him ever would have been.

The moment of awkward discomfort had passed, much to their relief. Vegeta did not like to bring up anything from his past and Bulma didn't enjoy hearing about it even though she was curious about his life. They both pushed the thought of gossip and rumors out of their minds and walked on the path around the lake in silence. Normally a motor-mouth, Bulma was uncharacteristically content with sharing a quiet moment with the saiyan prince.

The afternoon was dragging on and the hot summer sun continued to beat down on their backs mercilessly. The air was slightly cooled as a gentle breeze blew over the lake, but it was hardly enough to relieve them of the intense heat of the day. Not that Vegeta minded. He welcomed the hot weather, and Bulma wasn't about to wish it away, though she was sweating profusely.

Bulma linked her arm with Vegeta's and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. She was worn out from their jog and wanted to sit down, but the idea of sitting still was not appealing regardless of her legs' shakiness. When they walked past a vendor selling drinks she remembered what Vegeta had told her when she was stretching. No wonder she felt so tired and sore, she needed to rehydrate her body. She pulled the saiyan with her and asked for a bottle of water and paid for it.

Vegeta watched approvingly as she slowly downed the bottle of water. When it was empty she threw it in a plastics recycling can and resumed walking with him. He could tell from her ki that her body was reacting well to the added fluid after a few minutes. It wasn't the first time he was astounded by the weakness of human physiology. While he preferred to drink enough, dehydration certainly wasn't enough to affect him until it had been weeks since adding fluids to his system. He figured it was the same with food. Humans needed food all the time. Saiyans _wanted_ food all the time, but they could actually live without it for months if need be. They were a race designed to live in all extremes, whether it be in a desert, a frozen wasteland, or through a severe famine or drought. Unlike with humans, it took more than bad weather and a lack of resources to kill saiyans.

"Now what are you thinking about?" Bulma asked, noticing his pensiveness.

The saiyan shrugged one shoulder before answering, "I was contemplating how pathetic your human race is compared to saiyans. I'm surprised they've managed to survive this long, as prone to ailments resulting from unfavorable conditions as they are."

Bulma rolled her eyes. It was so typical of him to think about the superiority of his race. "Yeah, well, it's not my race that's nearing extinction. We might be weak, but at least we don't pick fights where we can't win."

Vegeta sighed and looked down at the ground, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He couldn't blame her for her remark. It was true. Saiyans got in over their heads when they made their 'alliance' with Frieza. It was because of that foolish decision that they were eventually destroyed. They could handle drastic weather changes, starvation, and dehydration. They could come out of battle torn to shreds and recover only to become stronger. But they could not live without their pride, and that was why they were exterminated. They wouldn't give up their pride and become mindless, obedient slaves to the lizard.

"The problem with the saiyans," he countered calmly, "was that they were too powerful for their own good. Few races in the universe are as united as the saiyans were. That made us a strong and fearsome race to deal with; a fight with one was a fight with all. That was why Frieza destroyed us. We were too much of a threat as we kept fighting and growing stronger."

"But that strength was also your weakness."

"Yes, I suppose it was," he agreed hesitantly. He hated to admit his elite race had any fault, but there was no getting around it. They were proud. Too proud for their own good. And too strong. It made them an easy target for fear, hatred, and paranoia. It's no wonder they were wiped out from existence. 'Survival of the fittest' really wasn't on their side; they were certainly the fittest, but that only served to make them contemptible in the sight of others. It was their fitness that led to their untimely demise. The conversation was dropped after his last comment. He didn't feel inclined to digging up the past and she could see that he was ready to lay it to rest.

Considering the way she subtly berated his race, Bulma was indeed surprised that he hadn't snapped on her and let his temper loose. If anything, he had grudgingly agreed that the saiyans were fools, and it was their foolishness that brought Frieza's wrath down upon them. He didn't necessarily seem ashamed of them for that foolishness either; rather, he pitied them for failing to realize what he himself had only recently come to see. They _were _a strong and noble race, but they allowed themselves to become enslaved and molded into a weapon for the lizard tyrant. But despite that, they were _still_ proud and unwilling to totally bend to his will.

Bulma allowed herself to smile a little when she thought about how Vegeta really was the embodiment of an entire people. As their prince it was fitting that he should be the epitome of saiyan pride, strength, nobility, honor, and greatness. She had to admit to herself that she was really looking forward to getting to know this new side of Vegeta. The Vegeta who represented the saiyans as they used to be, always should have been. A tidal wave of questions gushed through her mind as she watched the prince lazily strolling alongside her. Perhaps, in time, some of them would be answered. For now though, she would keep her peace and enjoy the rest of the day with him.

The sun was lowering in the sky as the afternoon was winding down, but it was still hot and light out, so they knew it wasn't time to go back to the compound for dinner yet. Once it started getting dark they would leave the park.

"It's so hot," Bulma complained as she wiped sweat from her face and neck. She resented the fact that she was sweating like crazy while Vegeta didn't seem bothered by the heat at all.

He raised his eyebrow at her and shrugged one shoulder. "This is mild to me. Saiyans are a desert race accustomed to high temperatures. We could handle either extreme, but hot was always preferable."

"Oh." Well, that explained why he wasn't uncomfortably warm like she was. She figured that also explained why he always kept his bedroom and training rooms boiling hot. He was naturally acclimated to high temperatures, making it so he could work best in such conditions that would be unbearable for her.

"Why will you see the weakling at dinner?"

Bulma furrowed her brows in confusion. That was a random question. "Huh?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes at her lame response. "When you told him to go back to the compound, you said you would see him at dinner. Why will he still be there?"

A light bulb turned on over Bulma's head as she remember her conversation with Yamcha. "Oh, well you see, he's been living at the compound for a while now. It just kind of made sense since he stays there most of the time anyway for his training and all." She shrugged and considered that discussion as good as over. Vegeta didn't agree.

His lip curled in distaste and he rounded on the woman. "I will not stay in the same building as that foolish human."

"Where else do you have to go?" Bulma asked flatly as she put her hands on her hips.

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Anyone passing by could see that both were preparing for battle that could only be won by stubbornness. And they looked evenly matched, so they might be there for a long while.

"I could go anywhere on this mudball, Woman."

"Fine, then I'll let Yamcha stay in your guest room since you won't be needing it."

"You wouldn't dare."

"It's my house and I can let him stay there if I want."

They stared each other down for a few silent moments, refusing to give in to the other's will. Bulma had already hurt Yamcha enough today by sticking with Vegeta and was not about to kick him out from under her roof. Vegeta hated the weakling and could not allow himself to have to associate with him so closely by living under the same roof as him. He would sooner sleep in the wild than take back his room, but at the same time he had claimed that as his territory and couldn't let the weakling have it. Neither had anything to lose by giving in except their pride, and that was not something either was willing to give up.

"Doesn't he have his own home to return to?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. He's welcome to stay with us as long as he wants."

Vegeta cocked his head and smirked so slightly Bulma wasn't sure if it wasn't just a twitch. Either way, she didn't like the mischievous look in his eyes. Something bad was going to go down if she didn't somehow prevent it. The trouble was, she didn't know what to prevent.

"Vegeta, don't you dare try forcing him out. I won't let you."

"Force him out? I wouldn't think of it," he said, feigning innocence. He wouldn't _forcibly_ remove the weakling from his turf, but he would make the weakling _want_ to leave. All he had to do was figure out how to grate on the human's nerves enough to make him go back to whatever little hellhole he crawled out of. Shouldn't be too hard.

Bulma poked the saiyan in the chest accusingly as she said, "I know you're planning something, Vegeta. I don't condone it, just so you know, but I know I can't stop you."

He smirked and swished his tail through the air behind him playfully. "You won't be mad at me if _he_ starts a fight, will you?"

"Oh Kami," she mumbled as she threw her hands up in the air and stalked off. "I'm not even going to say anything." Trying to talk Vegeta out of something was as effective as telling a brick wall to move out of the way. It would never work. He already had his mind made up to do something, and she was helpless to stop it. All she could do at this point is hope that he wouldn't cause any lasting damage to her boyfriend.

Vegeta chuckled and followed after her. Already a million ideas were racing through his mind of how he could get the weakling out of the compound that night.

_A/N: Uh oh, Vegeta's up to no good… And I know I warned you that updates would be slow for a while, and I'm not retracting that statement, but I will give you a bright, shining ray of hope now: A pretty epic blizzard is predicted for the Chicago area, which means I might have classes canceled this week, which means time to catch up in my classes and get on with revising the next few chapters! Pray for bad weather… And thank you for your patience with me. I appreciate it._

_Song: "Hot Gossip" by Gary Moore_


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

_Only your cynical jealousy  
Could help me understand your misery  
Hide behind the walls of your policy  
Manipulation and hypocrisy_

The sun had set and Vegeta and Bulma had returned to the Capsule Corporation compound. The smell of a feast cooking greeted them when they walked through the front door and Vegeta immediately disappeared into the kitchen. Bulma shook her head and chuckled at him. Saiyan prince or not, he was controlled by his stomach more than his brain sometimes.

Bulma went upstairs to her room to shower and change before dinner. She was sweaty from the heat and exercise and smelled terrible, or so she thought. Vegeta might have begged to differ. Regardless of the saiyan's opinion, Bulma wanted to get out of her soaked clothes and into something cool and dry. She pulled her clothes off and got into the shower and turned the water to lukewarm. She kept her hair up so it wouldn't get wet and washed herself quickly.

After she toweled herself off she got dressed in a pink t-shirt and white Bermuda shorts. Thus, freshened up, Bulma went back downstairs to see if her mother needed help preparing the banquet she was making for Vegeta. It was funny, really, how much Mrs. Brief loved the saiyan. He was civil towards her, but not friendly, yet she still thought he was sweet. She claimed he was shy and that was why he never talked very much. Bulma thought that assessment was a little off. He was reserved, but not because of shyness; he just liked to keep to himself.

When Bulma walked into the kitchen she saw the refrigerator door hanging open with a tail poking out from behind it. She giggled at the sight and scanned the area for her mother. Mrs. Brief was busily pulling something out of the oven and soon the smell of fresh baked bread filled the air. Bulma sniffed it hungrily as her mouth started to water. Vegeta wouldn't be the only one enjoying the huge dinner her mother was preparing.

"Hey, Mom," she said as she inched closer to a large bowl full of noodles to steal one, "Do you need any help with anything?"

Without even looking up Mrs. Brief slapped Bulma's hand as it reached for a noodle. "Sure, sweetie, would you mind mashing the potatoes?" she asked as she gestured to a giant steaming pot on the stove.

"Sure." Bulma grabbed the masher out of a drawer and set out to attack the potatoes with all she was worth. Mashing twenty pounds of potatoes was no easy task. Normally Bulma would try to escape kitchen duty as fast as possible, but she was as enthusiastic as her mother about making Vegeta a great meal, just this once. They really were going all out to meet his saiyan appetite, maybe even overwhelm it. Though that wasn't likely.

Mrs. Brief smiled brightly and pranced over to the griddle where she was grilling several large fillets of salmon. She turned them over and coated them in marinade before returning to the counter where she was mixing up the batter for a few dozen chocolate cupcakes. Bulma turned the beef roasts in the broiler and then set to work on coating shrimp with coconut.

Vegeta pulled a package of turkey out of the meat drawer in the refrigerator and a bottle of sports drink. It would be a good enough pre-dinner snack. He watched the two women milling around the kitchen as he stuffed the turkey in his mouth and washed it down with his drink. The smells were starting to drive him crazy. He stomach was growling with anticipation and he was salivating so much he kept wiping his mouth to make sure he wasn't drooling. He didn't know why the blonde woman had gone all out to make his favorite foods, but he wasn't complaining.

Mrs. Brief poured the cake batter into several muffin tins and popped them in the oven after pulling a tray of roasted chickens out. He finished the turkey and sports drink and threw the bottle and bag into the trash can before leaving the kitchen. If he stayed there any longer he would lose control and start eating everything before it was finished cooking, and that would be most undignified. He decided to pass the time by pestering the weakling.

Vegeta sensed the weakling's ki in the recreation room upstairs. He smirked evilly and went to see what the human was doing by himself in there. He crept down the hall when he reached the landing and put his ear to the door. He furrowed his brows at the strange sounds coming from within. Grunting, moaning, and various other noises that couldn't have possibly all come from the male inside.

The saiyan suppressed his ki until it was barely detectable and pushed the door open a crack. He sniffed the air and recoiled in disgust. Sex? The scent was unmistakable. And yet there was only one person's scent in the room. Now curious despite his revulsion, Vegeta shouldered the door open as he crept in on his hands and feet so the scar-faced warrior could not see him from over the back of the couch where he was sitting.

Once inside Vegeta was able to determine that at least some of the noises were coming from the TV. The volume was low, but he could hear clearly whereas a human might have to strain to hear. He silently prowled through the room until he was right behind the couch. He couldn't figure out what was going on. Why did the room smell like the weakling was having sex when there was no female – or male – with him? Vegeta shook his head and crept around the couch so he could see what was on TV.

He cocked his head and raised his eyebrow as he was baffled by what he saw on the screen. There were naked humans, two male and one female. And they were mating. Or at least, two of them were while the third was doing something else.

'What is this disgusting display?' he wondered. He was distracted from his thoughts by the labored grunting of the weakling not even three feet away from him. Vegeta ducked his head lower so his hair wouldn't give his location away and backed around the couch again. He had planned on annoying the weakling out of his mind, but his saiyan curiosity had gotten the best of him again and he couldn't rest until he figured out what in the world was going on.

Vegeta pushed himself back onto his knees and slowly rose right behind the weakling so he wouldn't be seen and looked over the back of the couch. He gagged when he saw the human doing essentially the same thing the second male on the TV was doing. He dropped back down to the floor and shook his head to get the image out of his head. He vehemently cursed his curiosity.

"Vegeta! Yamcha! Hey, where are you guys?"

The weakling's ki fluctuated in alarm, Vegeta noticed, when he heard the blue-haired woman yelling from down the hall. Then he heard the TV shut off, a zipper being zipped, a button being pushed through the buttonhole, and the weakling call, "In the rec room, B!"

Soft footsteps approached the door. Vegeta knew he couldn't be caught spying on the weakling, so he phased to the other end of the couch and crouched down so it would hide him. As the weakling stood and moved around the couch he crawled in front of it to keep the piece of furniture between them.

"Hey, Yam, have you seen 'Geta?" Bulma asked when she came in the room. "Don't look at me like that. I can't find him and I want to ask him if he wants eggrolls. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Uh, nothing, B. Just uh, I was just out on the balcony watching the sunset." Yamcha laughed nervously and Vegeta rolled his eyes. Time to make trouble. He snatched the remote from the coffee table and glanced over the buttons. The red one in the top right corner that said "Power" looked promising. He pointed it at the TV and pushed the button.

The TV came to life and the threesome appeared again, soon accompanied by all the sounds of sex. Vegeta crawled back to the other end of the couch when he heard the weakling's rapid footsteps running over to turn the TV off again while trying to sound innocent, claiming not to know what was going on.

"Yamcha! What the hell is this shit?" Bulma yelled from behind the couch.

Vegeta grinned and uncurled his tail from around his waist and stretched it out so that she could see it and flicked it a little to gain her attention. Yamcha was still trying to come up with excuses when Bulma snorted and walked over to the saiyan's hiding place.

The first thing she saw was the cat-that-got-the-canary grin on the prince's face. She raised her eyebrow expectantly as she waited for an explanation. Meanwhile the scar-faced warrior had stopped his stuttering and had come around to see what had caught his girlfriend's attention. When he saw the saiyan his face flushed beet red with anger.

"Vegeta? What the fuck are you doing in here?" he shouted.

Vegeta casually pulled himself up onto the couch and sprawled out across it, careful to avoid the place where Yamcha had been sitting a minute ago. "What am _I _doing? I could ask you the same question, but I think the woman already did. I believe you might want to revise your answer, though." He grabbed the remote control and turned the TV on.

Yamcha's blush deepened as he turned the TV off again. The porn playing in the background was not helping his case any. He started sputtering when Bulma nudged Vegeta so he would make room for her to sit, but instead of moving he pulled her on top of him so she was sitting on his stomach. She didn't so much as bat an eye. He was about to speak coherently when Vegeta once again turned the TV back on to add to his shame.

Frustrated with the saiyan and the fact that he had been caught red-handed, Yamcha grabbed the television and defenestrated it. Patting his hands together after a job well done, he made a point of ignoring Bulma's incredulous gaze after witnessing her very expensive TV go sailing out the window. He knew he would get a tongue-lashing for it, but at least the damned Prince of all Assholes couldn't further humiliate him by persistently turning the porn back on.

Vegeta crossed his arms under his head as he waited for the fun to start and Bulma crossed her arms over her chest as she scowled at her boyfriend who appeared to have a lot of explaining to do. For the second time that day Yamcha was taken aback by the amusement in the saiyan's gaze while there was hostility in Bulma's. This just wasn't his day, and it was all Vegeta's fault.

"Now listen, Bulma," Yamcha started, trying to sound firm and in control, "I know what you're thinking, but I have no idea why that was on. I wasn't even watching TV, I already told you I was on the balcony."

The prince snorted and chuckled, which made Bulma bounce up and down slightly. She shifted her position a little but that was all. "You are a bigger fool than I gave you credit for. Why else would that have been on when I turned the TV on?"

"Stay out of this, Vegeta!"

Bulma narrowed her eyes and rested one hand on Vegeta's chest and the other on his leg. She didn't have a tail, but she was showing her readiness to defend her pack mate in what way she could. Vegeta smirked when he realized what she was doing and wrapped his tail around her waist. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Yamcha? I know Vegeta isn't framing you. He's never even used the VCR so I highly doubt he put a tape in it and pushed play and turned the TV on to make me think you were watching porn."

Yamcha stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and scowled at the saiyan. "Even if I was, he had no right to come in here and spy on me."

"Like I care how he found out what you were doing. You disgust me, you pig! You're as bad as Roshi." Bulma grimaced at the thought.

"What? No I'm not!" Yamcha shouted. He took a step toward Bulma and clenched his fist. He was _so_ tired of her berating him, especially in front of Vegeta.

A loud growl ripped through Vegeta's throat and his tail bristled to three times its normal size as he bared his teeth. The foolish weakling was threatening his pack mate _again_. Wasn't he supposed to be her lover or something? Did he always treat her this way? He felt a flame of anger kindle in his gut and it was growing as his pack instincts stirred in defense.

Yamcha backpedaled but kept the menacing scowl plastered on his scarred features. He was hurt that his girlfriend could look at him so coldly while sitting in the lap of a murdering monster without fear or repulsion. What had he done to deserve this? Oh yeah, the porn video. He had to fix this somehow. He opened his mouth to try explaining but she held her hand up to silence him.

"Just tell me why you were watching it, Yamcha."

"I…" he trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. That wasn't easy to explain, especially not with the third party in the room. His mouth opened to form words but none came out.

Bulma was tired of waiting for his explanation. "Why, Yamcha? Am I not good enough for you? Am I not as pretty as the women in those videos? For Kami's sake, you're staying at my house, I'm kind of available if you want sex!"

"You weren't today!" he snapped. "You were out with that – that _animal_." Yamcha was seething with pent up frustration, and not just sexual. In less than a day he had been reduced to a masturbating pervert because some other man – no, alien animal – came and stole his girlfriend away from him.

Vegeta snickered at the other man's discomfort, loving that he was the cause behind it. He was feeling rather smug over his accomplishment. "You're pathetic if you can't control yourself for one afternoon, weakling. Getting off to watching others fuck, that's great."

Bulma covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. Vegeta had a point there: Yamcha really was pathetic. Actually, the whole concept of porn was pathetic. It was actually kind of funny, in a twisted way, that anyone would resort to watching sex for their kicks.

Yamcha liked neither Vegeta's sardonic comment nor the fact that his girlfriend was laughing at his shame. This meant war. He was going to get back at Vegeta somehow, even if it took him fifty years. No one made a fool of him, especially in front of Bulma.

The saiyan turned to look up at the woman sitting on him as if dismissing the other man. "And yes, I would like eggrolls. As many as possible." His tail tickled her a little before unwrapping from around her waist.

"Oh yeah, I forgot why I was even looking for you," she said as she pushed the offending tail away. "So dinner will probably be ready in half an hour."

"Good." Vegeta sat up so Bulma was sitting on his lap and nipped her nose. "Don't worry about that weakling's foolishness. The problem with you is that you're too good for him."

"Excuse me!" Yamcha yelled, "I'm still here!"

Vegeta shot him a bored look before muttering, "That is unfortunate." He pushed Bulma off his lap gently and whispered in her ear, "Now go make my eggrolls, Woman."

She slapped his arm playfully but stood up to go back to the kitchen. "I'm not your servant, Vegeta." She yelped in surprise when he smacked her ass to make her go. "Ok, ok, I'm going," she laughed as she ran out of the room and downstairs.

"I'll leave you to your… business," Vegeta said as he also stood and walked out.

If looks could kill Vegeta would have dropped dead on the spot, but he didn't even notice the glare Yamcha was giving him. He wouldn't have cared anyway, for he had won that round.

Half an hour later the Briefs and their houseguests were seated around the dining room table, which was barely big enough to hold all the food set out. Vegeta started helping himself, which seemed to wordlessly grant permission for the others to do the same. He was piling food on his plate and eating at the same time, hardly able to control himself. If he didn't slow down, he would end up looking like Goku, which was an abhorrent thought to him.

There was a large platter with a mountain of eggrolls set next to Vegeta and a smaller one in the middle of the table for everyone else. No one would be foolish enough to try taking one from him or they might very well lose a limb. Mrs. Brief's smile lit up the room as she watched the surly houseguest devour the food she slaved all day to make all for him.

"Mr. Vegeta, I'm so glad to see you've come back! I made all your favorites to celebrate," Mrs. Brief chirped as she spooned a heap of dumplings onto his plate.

Yamcha glared at the blonde woman as he chewed a piece of meat. He didn't understand why she liked Vegeta so much. He had known her for years and she never gave him special treatment like this. He was dating her daughter and lived under the same roof from time to time, but he doubted she even knew what his favorite foods were. It was disgusting the way she fawned all over the saiyan.

Vegeta noticed Yamcha's reaction to Mrs. Brief's statement and smirked before stuffing another eggroll into his mouth. When he swallowed he gave Mrs. Brief a huge smile and dipped his head. "Thank you, Mrs. Brief," he drawled, "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, it's so nice having you stay with us, you're such a sweet, hard-working young man. If you weren't so shy I'm sure you'd have every girl in town all over you!" Yamcha stared open-mouthed at the exchange. Not only had Vegeta actually been polite, but Mrs. Brief had showered him with compliments! Sure, she was eccentric, but this was too much.

Vegeta chuckled and went back to eating voraciously. He didn't say another word throughout the entire meal, but he had gotten under Yamcha's skin with that one comment. He had replied to Mrs. Brief with the sole purpose in mind of getting her to gush over his virtues, something he was sure she never did with the weakling.

Bulma was beginning to see what the saiyan was up to, but she wasn't about to stop him. In all honesty, she was positively furious with Yamcha for betraying her by watching porn and then lying about it. She was appalled by it and in a way wanted him to go back home so she wouldn't have to see him for a while. Still, she was a gracious host and wouldn't kick her guest out even if he was a pervert – aside from Roshi – so she was secretly cheering Vegeta on to drive her boyfriend out of her house. She was hurt by what he had done, but she still loved him and wanted to give him another chance, so she wouldn't break up with him to get him to leave.

Vegeta was the last one done eating, polishing off every last bit of food from the table. He was completely stuffed, almost to the point of being sick, but it was worth the discomfort to taste more of Mrs. Brief's cooking. He stood up and stretched before casually sauntering over to Bulma and leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Would you care to join me for some post-dinner entertainment?"

Bulma shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear. "Sure, Vegeta. Can Yamcha join us?" She winked at him and rolled her eyes to let him know she was onto his game and wanted a part in it. She was met with a huge smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Of course, Woman." Bulma pushed her chair out from the table and Vegeta wrapped his tail around her thigh. He kept her close to him as Yamcha joined them and led them away. Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief watched with fascination at the way Vegeta was acting with their daughter and her boyfriend.

After a minute of silent contemplation, Dr. Brief stated, "That boy is up to trouble. I'll be damned if I miss this." Mrs. Brief giggled and started clearing the dishes off the table. Secretly, she was rooting for Vegeta as much as her daughter and husband.

Vegeta kept Bulma glued to his side as he walked through the halls of the compound. Yamcha tried to stay just as close to her on the other side, but she emphatically pushed him away to maintain her personal space. He crossed his arms and repeatedly shot cold glares at the saiyan the whole time they were walking.

After a few minutes, Vegeta stopped in front of a set of ornate wooden doors and pushed them open. Bulma knew what lay behind, but Yamcha had never actually been to this part of the compound. He usually stuck to the kitchen, any room with a TV, Bulma's bedroom, or the guest rooms. Vegeta flipped the lights on and the beautiful chandelier illuminated the library.

The three walked further into the library, each with different reactions. Vegeta's eyes glazed over with curiosity, Bulma looked around inquisitively as she wondered why they had come here, and Yamcha looked bored.

The saiyan turned to Bulma and, after his mouth twitched in a split second smirk, asked, "Are there any books you might recommend for me?"

Bulma grinned and nodded. "Sure, what kind of book are you looking for? Fiction? Another encyclopedia? Maybe you want to learn a new language? You name it. We even have boring old owner's manuals for a million different gadgets."

"What is your favorite novel?"

She had to think about that for a few minutes. Bulma loved to read when she had the chance and she had gone through many books that she had become enthralled with. "I think I know. But you'll have to help me get it since it's on the top shelf." She walked over to the wall and pointed at the one she wanted. "Up there."

Vegeta stood next to her and shrugged. "You get it." She yelped in amusement as he easily picked her up and put her on his shoulders so she could reach the book. She pulled a small, battered book off the shelf and handed it down to him.

Yamcha gaped at the display and felt his heart dropping through the floor. Now it wasn't just Vegeta who was messing with him, but his girlfriend had joined in the act too. His stomach lurched when he again thought she was flirting with him. To make it worse, he appeared to be flirting back. He felt jealousy gnawing away at his brain and a burning rage rising in his chest.

Bulma laughed as Vegeta went over to one of the brown leather chairs and sat down with her still perched on his shoulders. It was like he didn't even remember she was there. He cracked the book open and began reading while Bulma read over his flame of hair. "Hey, turn back, I wasn't done yet," she murmured when Vegeta turned the first page. He flipped back and waited patiently for her to finish. "Ok, turn."

"Um, hey guys, what am I supposed to do?" Yamcha asked, irritated that they were ignoring him.

Two pairs of eyes shot up to his simultaneously – again. Bulma quirked her eyebrow at him. "Why don't you grab a book and read?" She laughed inside, knowing he hated reading.

"Ugh! Fine," he growled as he stomped over to where there were some old magazines. He pulled one off the shelf and sat down in the chair on the other side of the end table with the lamp the other two were reading by. He started flipping through it but was soon incredibly bored. He looked up when Bulma started giggling, but he couldn't see if Vegeta had done anything to make her laugh. He narrowed his eyes and kept watch on them while he pretended to read.

Bulma laughed again and Vegeta chuckled as he turned the page. They were completely absorbed in the story, having forgotten Yamcha entirely. He started to realize this when they both barked with laughter at something they read at the same time. The human warrior began to feel very left out and resented the saiyan more than ever. Now he had a common interest with his girlfriend? That just wasn't right. He glared at them over his magazine and cleared his throat to try getting their attention. It didn't work.

"Hold on," Bulma murmured again. She read the last couple sentences on the page before telling Vegeta to go ahead and turn the page.

When the blue-haired woman started to shift uncomfortably from leaning over for so long, Vegeta silently set the book aside and picked her up off his shoulders and set her in his lap. He picked the book back up and resumed reading as she leaned back against his chest and snuggled into his arms.

Yamcha growled in the back of his throat and slammed his magazine down on the table, making Bulma jump and Vegeta shoot him a questioning glance. "Seriously, you guys, are you going to sit there and read the whole damn book? Don't you want to do something else?"

Both shook their heads as they continued reading. Vegeta remembered then that he was simply trying to aggravate the weakling enough to make him want to leave the compound, but he really was enraptured with the story and he didn't mind having Bulma close to him enjoying the same thing. Her closeness made him comfortable and cast his loneliness into the shadows.

"Come on," Yamcha whined. "Stop reading, and we can watch a movie or something."

"Shut up, Yamcha, we're halfway done anyway," Bulma grumbled. He opened his mouth to argue further but she put her finger on her lips and shushed him.

The scar-faced man threw his head back and groaned in boredom and irritation. He hated being ignored and he hated reading. This was no fun at all for him and he couldn't convince them to do something else. Frankly, he didn't care if Vegeta wanted to participate or not, but he wanted to get Bulma to do something with him. Maybe she could finish what he started earlier when he was alone. He looked at the clock and saw that they had been sitting in the library for nearly an hour.

Twenty more minutes passed and Yamcha was starting to nod off. He was occasionally brought out of his half-dozing state when Vegeta or Bulma would laugh at something they read or she would make a comment like "I love this part!" or "That guy is such a jerk." The clock continued to tick the time away and still they weren't done reading. Yamcha was beginning to think they would never finish despite being able to see that there were fewer pages to turn.

Yamcha had nodded off again when the book suddenly slammed shut and he practically jumped through the ceiling. "What the fuck?" he screamed as he landed back in the chair. He blushed and laughed sheepishly when the others gave him looks that told him he'd made a fool of himself.

"So did you like it?" Bulma asked when Vegeta pushed her to her feet and stood up behind her.

"Hn." He dragged her back to the shelf where the book came from and lifted her so she could put it away.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Vegeta smirked but didn't say anything in reply. He knew she understood him well even when he didn't really say what he meant. That was both scary and comforting to him.

"So, you want to watch a movie?" Bulma asked as if it was the first time the idea had come up that evening.

"What a waste of time," Vegeta scoffed as he wrapped his tail around her thigh and walked toward the doors. He didn't even wait for Yamcha as he flipped the lights off and closed the doors. He walked with Bulma back through the maze of hallways, leaving Yamcha behind.

Dr. Brief was wandering the halls when he heard Bulma talking to someone who was responding only with short grunts and he knew her "captive" audience was the saiyan houseguest. Soon they came into view, but there was no human man with them. He raised his eyebrows at that and scratched his cat's head absent-mindedly. Maybe he would finally get to see some of the mischief the saiyan was causing.

"Bulma, wait up!" a man's voice yelled through the halls. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came and soon Yamcha was seen running toward them. Vegeta pushed Bulma out of the way as he stuck his foot out and tripped the other warrior who wasn't able to stop himself in time from crashing into them. Yamcha skidded to a halt on his face and sat up with a bright red rug burn on his cheek.

"What the hell did you do that for, Vegeta?" he spat as he stood up and brushed himself off.

Vegeta shrugged. "Reflexes."

Bulma broke into laughter and had to lean against Vegeta to keep from falling over. She had never seen such an epic fall as that, and the rug burn just made it that much better.

Dr. Brief was hardly able to contain his own amusement as he coughed to cover a laugh that escaped. He was impressed with the saiyan's ability to do something so childish and pass it off as something he learned to do as a soldier.

"Right," Yamcha grumbled, "reflexes my ass." He glared at the saiyan but wouldn't leave Bulma's side as much as he wanted to get away from Vegeta.

Vegeta noticed Dr. Brief standing there and another smirk graced his regal features as he bowed slightly to him. "Dr. Brief, I would like to thank you again for your hospitality. I was wondering if I could show you the micro-gravity simulator I created and see if you have any ideas on how to increase the gravity it's able to produce?"

The old man was not oblivious to what the flame-haired man was doing, but he was about as sadistic as his daughter and played along. "No trouble at all, my boy. I would be happy to see your device, but I highly doubt I could be of any help in improving it. I think your understanding of the physics behind it far exceeds my own."

Yamcha's jaw dropped yet again. He had seen Mrs. Brief's attentiveness to the saiyan before, so that hadn't been completely shocking, but now Dr. Brief too? He felt like any possible allies he might have in the compound in getting Vegeta kicked out were next to nonexistent. How had the saiyan managed to worm his way into their good favor so easily? Sure, they were a bit loopy and oblivious to some things, but they were good judges of character – most of the time, anyway. The saiyan had been gone for almost a year and then when he returns they're practically groveling at his feet as if it were the greatest honor in the world to house him.

Dr. Brief patted Vegeta's arm as he continued his walk down the hall. "Keep my little girl happy, son. She just wasn't the same when you were gone." His hand moved from Vegeta's arm to his cat's ears and he scratched them again as he cooed random phrases to it.

"Son?" Yamcha moaned. Dr. Brief had never called _him_ son.

The doctor chuckled quietly to himself as he left the three youngsters behind. Perhaps his wife was rubbing off on him, but he was starting to think that Bulma could do _much_ better than Yamcha. In fact, she could have a prince if she would open her eyes to see. A worthy prince.

"You know what," Bulma mumbled, "On second thought, I think I'd like to go to bed. I'm exhausted. You guys can watch a movie without me." She leaned heavily on Vegeta as her legs wobbled like jell-o under her weight.

Vegeta turned her to face him and picked her up. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine," she said as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "I'd just fall asleep during the movie anyway." She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Hey, why don't you let me take you to bed?" Yamcha suggested, almost frantic for her to remember he existed and that she was clinging to a murdering psychopath.

She murmured something unintelligible and nuzzled into Vegeta's neck. He moved one hand down to support her weight under her ass while he kept his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist. His tail coiled around her thigh as he carried her toward the stairs.

"Damnit, Vegeta, would you let me take her?" Yamcha shouted, flailing his arms around.

Vegeta whirled around to face him. "Would you shut up, human? Do you want to wake her up?" He snarled so his canine showed before turning back toward the stairs.

Yamcha followed him all the way into Bulma's bedroom and watched as the saiyan gently laid her in bed. He unhooked her hands from behind his neck and unwound his tail from her leg and stood up straight again. He turned to leave, but her hand shot out and grabbed his.

"Pajamas," she murmured and dropped his hand.

"Woman?"

Bulma only moaned softly and cuddled with her pillow. Vegeta sighed and went to her dresser to get some pajamas out for her. He ignored the wide-eyed, open-mouthed, scar-faced warrior standing at the foot of the bed as he pulled her shorts off and put her pajama shorts on. Yamcha tried to protest when Vegeta pulled her t-shirt off but was silenced by another cold glare. Vegeta pulled the straps of her bra off her arms and put her spaghetti tank on her before reaching under her to unclasp her bra and pull it off from under her top.

Yamcha continued to watch as the saiyan gathered her clothes and dumped them in her dirty laundry hamper and walked toward the door. He had fully expected Vegeta to either be rough with her or take advantage of his opportunity to feel her up or at least take a peek, but he hadn't. He hated to admit that he wouldn't have had such discretion.

"'Geta?"

Vegeta stopped in the doorway and his shoulders dropped a little as he looked back over at the woman who was gazing at him through cracked eyelids. Even then her blue depths threatened to swallow him up. "What is it, Woman?"

"I'm glad you're back."

A small smile betrayed Vegeta before he could hide it with his stony stoic expression. He nodded and walked out the door and down the hall to his own room. Yamcha looked from the door to the blue-haired woman and back again. He felt like crying. There was no way this was happening. He must have fallen into a twilight zone of some sort, and he needed to get out. Maybe he would just leave Capsule Corp for a while. It might be better for his sanity.

Bulma pulled her covers over herself and rolled onto her side away from him. That wasn't welcoming. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Yeah, he definitely needed to get away for a while. He _must_ be going insane. Vegeta was polite to the Briefs, he was acting like best friends with Bulma, maybe more, they all seemed indifferent to him and loved Vegeta. All impossibilities. He shook his head and went to his room to grab some things before leaving to go back to his own apartment.

_A/N: Hooray! Classes are canceled tomorrow, so I can get more editing done! Oh, and you'll either love me or hate me for this, but in class today (instead of taking notes) I started writing a new story. It's another AU of B/V and I think it's going to be a lot of fun. The bad part is, I might focus more on writing that then updating this. But rejoice, for a new story is born!_

_Also: Where the heck are my reviews? I've barely been getting any the past couple chapters! Have they been so lame they're un-review-worthy? I think I need like 20 on this chapter to make up for that. Or I won't update, so there! :(_

_Song: "Return to Grey" by FEFF_


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

'_Cause I'm the fucking king of the world  
Get on your knees  
I'm the fucking king of the world  
Do as I please  
So get up and get out and I'll show you  
What it takes for me to control you  
'Cause I'm the fucking king of the world_

Bulma groaned and slammed her fist on the alarm clock that was blaring in her ear, eager to get the day started. She had slept well, but she had also been having a good dream she resented the clock for interrupting. She blinked her eyes a few times in the dim early morning light coming through her balcony doors and yawned.

'That was a strange dream, but I liked it. Vegeta actually being sweet? Not likely.'

She put her feet on the floor and rubbed the last traces of sleep out of her eyes. It was still early, but she had been getting up at that time almost daily for months. So she was not unused to 6:15AM. Her body still rejected it to a degree, but she was able to ignore its shaky protests now.

'It's funny, I don't even remember going to bed, let alone changing into pajamas.'

Bulma stood up and shuffled over to her dresser and got out a pair of blue running shorts and a yellow tank top and sports bra. 'Time to get the day started, indeed, alarm clock.' She changed her clothes and sat on the floor to stretch her muscles that were a little sore from her jog the day before. She had stretched post-jog, but not before, and it was coming back to haunt her. That done, she stood back up and tied her hair back in a bun. Time to go.

She walked out of her room and past the guestroom next to hers and stopped. She looked at the door and shook her head. 'He's really back, isn't he?' She smiled for the first time that morning and knocked on the door. As expected, there was no answer. He was probably already up and training, but she peeked in just in case he was sleeping in a little later than usual. She didn't see him anywhere so she closed the door and turned to continue downstairs, but before she could she bumped into a brick wall.

"Vegeta," she squeaked as she fell back a step, "Where did you come from?"

The saiyan snorted and pinned her against the wall and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Do you always snoop around other people's private quarters?" His deep voice rumbled through her body and she felt the tip of his tail twitching against her stomach as he crowded her.

"N-no. I was just looking for you."

"Whatever for?" he purred.

Bulma tried to push him back a little but he wouldn't budge. Apparently he was trying to make her a bit uncomfortable, and it was working like a charm. She knew he wasn't usually too friendly in the morning and here she was invading his territory, which probably irritated him quite a lot. So here she was, literally backed against a wall, with an irascible saiyan breathing down her neck and demanding an explanation for her ridiculous behavior. She gulped.

"I was hoping you'd want to go jogging with me," she mumbled. After she stated her request she bashfully turned her head away from him so she couldn't see the amusement dancing in his bottomless black eyes.

Vegeta smirked and inhaled her scent before pulling back. "Are you that desperate for my attention, Woman? You can't keep up with me."

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "So you tell me every time I ask you to go with me!" she snapped. "But yes, I want to see you sometime other than at meals." Her cheeks tinged pink at her confession and she ducked under his arm and started walking away. She knew she was only able to get away because he let her, but she had her pride to keep, so she held her head high and didn't turn back to him as she went downstairs.

He chuckled and shook his head as he followed her down. Her spitfire attitude, even when she was obviously barely awake, intrigued him, which was why he kept trying to provoke it. Her feistiness reminded him of what he thought a saiyan female would be like, and that made his decision to accept her offer of including him in her pack more tolerable.

Bulma felt a familiar warmth behind her and glanced over her shoulder at the saiyan standing there. It was astounding how his body heat came off in waves that she could feel over three feet away, but at the moment he was only inches from her. "Did you even sleep last night?" she asked, noticing for the first time he was wearing the same white shorts as the day before.

He shook his head. "I often suffer from insomnia after a long trip in a space pod."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," she said as she shrugged. "So what did you do all night?"

Vegeta pushed her forward to remind her they were walking out of the compound to jog. She had been stopped for too long in his opinion and wanted to get going since he _was_ wasting his precious time for her sake. "Reading."

They were outside now, walking toward the front gate. "You mean you left Yamcha alone after I went to bed?"

"You use that phrase loosely. I had to take you to bed, you lazy human. And no, I didn't bother him because after I put you to bed he left the compound on his own accord."

"You what?" she screeched and nearly veered off the sidewalk into a wall.

Vegeta grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the sidewalk before she could fall over, scrape herself up, and start crying like an obnoxious toddler. "You practically fell asleep on your feet, so I took you to your room. What of it?"

'He took me to bed? Does that mean I _wasn't_ dreaming? I wonder…'

"Oh. Well, thanks. Did you help me change into my pajamas too?" Her eyes widened when she saw the corner of his mouth twitch down and he gave no verbal answer. She knew then that she had not, in fact, been dreaming, and Vegeta had acted sweetly and put her to bed and changed her clothes and didn't peek at or touch anything inappropriate. She was shocked, to say the least. Having her answer, she dropped the topic, knowing he didn't enjoy being called out on his acts of kindness.

They jogged in silence for three miles before Vegeta cast her a sidelong glance and smirked. "We're turning left at the next corner. Follow my lead." He refused to say more despite her inquisitive look and his smirk grew when they turned the corner and continued on a side street in a posh neighborhood with large houses, fancy condominiums, and studio apartments. Bulma recognized it immediately and furrowed her brows at the saiyan. He was up to something – again. And one human wasn't going to appreciate it.

After another mile Vegeta directed her down another street to the right. "Woman, have you created new training bots in my absence?"

"Huh?" she grunted as she turned to look at her jogging partner. "I haven't built any but I have plans for some. I never bothered finishing them since I didn't even know if you'd be back."

"You will work on them today." Another demand, not a polite request. Typical.

Bulma smiled slightly at his familiar way of asking for new training equipment. It would normally have bothered her, but she was still riding the waves of excitement over his return and would do almost anything for him to show him how glad she was that he was back. Anything except lick his boots, which he might be crazy enough to tell her to do if he were irritated enough with her. She chuckled at that thought and shook her head. "Sure, 'Geta. If you want, you can come down to the lab and see the blueprints I've drawn up and you can make any adjustments you want."

He nodded and said nothing more. When they turned left again he wrapped his tail around her thigh, almost tripping her. He had almost reached his goal.

Bulma saw another jogger coming their way down the street but thought little of it. They had passed many others, several of whom she greeted as acquaintances since they took the same routes every day at about the same time and often saw each other. Morning jogging was an activity that sort of had its own little society. People never really stopped to talk or anything, but sharing a common interest and exchanging greetings daily was enough to make them feel as though they knew each other better than they actually did.

Bulma gasped in horror when Vegeta formed a small ki ball and threw it at the approaching man. She was about to scream at him when the other man leaped out of the way and retaliated with a ki ball of his own. She squinted against the rising sun behind him to get a better look at him and almost laughed when she recognized her boyfriend. She _knew_ Vegeta was up to something when he led her to this neighborhood!

"What the hell was that about, Vegeta?" his angry voice called over to them.

Vegeta chuckled and shot an amused glance at the woman next to him before replying, "Reflexes." That really did make Bulma laugh and she was hardly able to keep jogging as she gasped for breath. Did he really say that, again? Poor Yamcha.

The blue-haired woman and the saiyan prince reached where Yamcha was standing with a furious expression on his face. He had been able to dodge the ki blast, but it was the principle of the matter that bothered him. He had not in any way provoked an attack, but it came anyway. And then, _then_ the despicable saiyan said he did it as a _reflex?_ Yamcha may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he wasn't completely stupid.

"A reflex? What kind of a reflex was that? I didn't even do anything!" he shouted.

Vegeta smirked as he continued on past him. "You're a creature with a higher-than-average power level charging in my direction. It's reflex to attack before being attacked." He snickered, once again thoroughly pleased with himself, once he and Bulma had passed the scar-faced warrior, leaving him sputtering in anger and inability to create a witty comeback.

Bulma looked over at the saiyan and shook her head. He was terrible! "Is that even true, Vegeta?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Do I lie, Woman?"

"Well, no, but…" She didn't bother finishing what she was going to say, instead shaking her head again. Boys will always be boys, she figured. He hadn't lied, even if he had purposely put himself in the position of Yamcha running toward him in what could be considered an attack.

The saiyan simply grinned playfully at her before turning back to the street ahead and uncoiling his tail from her leg to wrap it loosely around his waist. He knew she knew what he had done and it amused him that she wasn't reprimanding him for it. Clearly, she was still miffed at the human warrior for what she had caught him doing – thanks to Vegeta – last evening and figured he could stand to have a little punishment at the saiyan's hands, so long as it didn't involve serious violence or death. Perhaps he was acting like a cub, but it was worth it to get under the weakling's skin and gain the woman's brilliant smile and laughter.

And so the odd pair continued on their jog, zigzagging through the streets of the city, dodging cars and crowds, and laughing at the shouts of anger following them. On her own, Bulma never would have done something to earn the ire of people, but being around Vegeta brought out her uncivilized side and she had great fun jumping on car hoods that crossed the crosswalks and shoving people out of the way when they were too close.

Once they had gone eight miles, Bulma was really beginning to tire again, panting, sweating, and slowing her pace. But she knew that she had gone eight miles the day before and was determined to go further today. She had reached a plateau at a little over eight miles, but now that Vegeta was with her, she wouldn't allow herself to give up, so she pushed on.

Vegeta did not fail to notice how hard the activity was becoming for her by the time they reached mile nine, but he said nothing when she insisted on going further still. He could see that she was working to gain his approval at her progress and respected that. She was a weak human, unable to ever match his strength and endurance even without the use of his ki, but she was trying her hardest. Her willpower, more than anything, impressed him as she once again reminded him of a female saiyan; they were almost all lower in power than male saiyans, but that didn't stop them from trying their hardest to keep up with them. The harder a female saiyan would try to compete with the males the more attractive they were as potential mates. Vegeta knew that human males seemed to prefer females who were weaker and didn't try to reach the level of males and that human females were obsessed with trying to attract mates, so it surprised him that the blue-haired woman would push herself so hard to earn his praise, even knowing he wouldn't give it.

But despite all this, Vegeta forced her to stop when, after nine and a half miles, she was unable to breathe and her face was burning red with exertion and lack of oxygen. Her poise had become clumsy and forced as she practically dragged one foot in front of the other, not wanting to stop until at least ten miles. So she was somewhat humiliated when he pointed all this out and grabbed her shoulders to stop her when she waved him off and tried to keep going.

"Why'd… you stop… me?" she gasped out between pants. She was hunched over with hands on knees and sounded like an asthmatic who had just run a marathon without an inhaler.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt like he was starting to do that a lot when around the silly woman, but shook that trail of thought from his mind. "Isn't it obvious, Woman? You sound like you're dying. Pushing yourself further would have been counterproductive."

She didn't reply for a couple more minutes while she worked to catch her breath. Even though her legs were wobbly and her lungs were burning, she was happy with herself for going so far. Maybe she just needed to force herself on before, and then she would have been able to go so much longer before Vegeta returned. Then maybe he would have been so impressed he would have said something about it. She leaned against the storefront they were standing next to and wiped the sweat from her face.

"I need something to drink. There's a newsstand down the block, they probably have some drinks for sale," she said as she gestured toward the large stand covered in magazines and newspapers.

"Hn. Stretch first."

Bulma frowned at him in mock irritation. "You're sure bossy today." Even though she felt like she was making a ridiculous spectacle of herself, she started stretching in the middle of the sidewalk while Vegeta stood by her side with arms crossed and scowl on face.

They walked down to the newsstand having no idea what to expect. Men and women in business suits who were waiting for buses or were early enough on their way to work to be able to stop and read the headlines turned and gawked at the sweaty pair of joggers as they approached. Vegeta could hear some of them exclaiming things like, "Oh my Kami, it's them!" and "That's Bulma Brief!" He didn't think much of it until they were close enough to see why they had quickly become the center of attention in the small crowd gathered around the papers.

Their picture, along with Yamcha, was plastered on every major magazine and newspaper the stand had to offer. News travels fast and gets published faster. The incident at the park yesterday afternoon was today's big news.

"Oh Kami! He really _does _have a tail!" a feminine shriek rose above the rest of the murmurs.

Bulma groaned and turned around to walk back the other way, but Vegeta put his arm up so she couldn't leave. "Vegeta, I don't want to deal with this. Let's go somewhere else."

Vegeta shook his head and fixed his piercing gaze on her. "You don't have to live your life around these fools. So they want to talk about you or us or whatever those foolish reporters wrote, so what? They do not matter, Woman. Don't back away under their scrutiny. You are a pack mate of the Prince of all Saiyans. You are above these pathetic humans."

Her cerulean pools cooled his gaze and his features softened slightly, so little that anyone other than Bulma probably would not have noticed. She smiled slightly and nodded as she turned back around and marched to the counter of the newsstand, ignoring her picture staring at her from a thousand different places. "I would like four bottles of water, please," she said when the vendor appeared. She handed him her credit card and took the water from him when he handed her the receipt.

"Here you go," she said as she handed two of the bottles to Vegeta.

He popped the cap off one bottle and downed it in true saiyan fashion: three quick gulps. Bulma giggled a little as she twisted the cap off one of hers and took a few swigs from it. He finished his second bottle before she was done with her first and threw the bottles in the recycle bin next to the trash can.

He was waiting for Bulma to finish when he felt two tiny, chubby hands grabbing his tail and squeezing. He yelped in surprise and shot into the air a couple feet before whirling around and baring his teeth at his adversary, his tail bristled and tight around his waist. He was about to lob off the child's head when he heard the blue-haired woman laughing hysterically behind him.

"Oh my Kami," she laughed, "Vegeta that was hilarious!" She slapped her knee and wiped her tears of mirth from her face with the back of her hand.

Vegeta growled softly and straightened his posture to glare down his nose at the confused child. Her mother was rebuking her audacious action now while some of the people milling around had taken a few steps back in surprise at his lightning-fast reflexes and angry visage that could melt iron. They looked around, confused, when they saw the Capsule Corp heiress laughing at the scary flame-haired man accompanying her.

"That was anything but funny," he snarled over his shoulder at her.

Bulma shrugged and finished her first bottle of water and threw it in the recycling bin. "Whatever you say, 'Geta." Her frustration with the media forgotten, Bulma picked up one of the magazines in curiosity and looked at the full page photo of her yelling at Yamcha while Vegeta wrapped his tail around her waist and bared his fangs like a feral animal. The headline read 'IS BULMCHA OVER?' She rolled her eyes at the way they combined her name with Yamcha's as she flipped the magazine open to the story.

Vegeta smoothed out his tail with his hand and wrapped it around his waist again before walking over to the blue-haired woman to see what she was reading. He looked over her shoulder and read a few paragraphs before he snorted and rolled his eyes. "People believe this trash?"

"Mm. Some do, I guess," she muttered as she flipped the page and finished reading the article. It wasn't as bad as she had anticipated, but it was still packed full of ridiculous claims and commentary about the continued longevity of her relationship with Yamcha and whether she was 'with' the mysterious tailed man. "This'll probably blow over in a couple weeks, if not sooner," she predicted as she put the magazine back on the rack.

Vegeta wrapped his tail around her waist and led her back through the throng of businesspeople who were still gaping at them openly. He snarled if anyone stepped closer and they would immediately step back and let them pass without comment. Bulma had never felt so untouchable. She raised her chin confidently and gave dirty looks to anyone stupid enough to make a suggestive statement about their relationship within earshot. But none of it really bothered her because she had the embodiment of power at her side supporting her. If only she could always feel so strong when the media was bombarding her with personal questions whenever she attended social events. Rich, famous, prestigious, beautiful, Bulma Brief was still insecure after a lifetime of being seen only as those things.

The prince's regal demeanor left a sense of awe and respect in his wake. His head held high, back ramrod straight, the way he looked _down_ his nose at everyone regardless of their height, and his powerful build could inspire admiration and fear into the coldest hearts. No one knew who he was, but they knew he wasn't any average Joe, and not just because he had a furry brown tail and gravity-defying hair. He was handsome, devilishly so, and the scars covering his body added a rugged appeal that might have turned women off on anyone else. He was with _the_ Bulma Brief and it looked like _he_ was the one in control. There was an aura of power about him that didn't require the ability to sense ki to notice. And the part that topped it all off was that he knew how he made his inferiors – everyone – feel, and he was damn proud of it.

When the newsstand was a few blocks behind them, Bulma mentioned, "It's probably getting a little late. We should get back to the compound for breakfast before Mom worries."

The mention of food had the saiyan snapping to attention. He nodded and dragged Bulma into an alley and looked around before taking her in his arms and flying away to Capsule Corp. He was, unsurprisingly, very hungry and couldn't wait to taste Mrs. Brief's homemade waffles, cheesy omelets, and bacon. The thought made his mouth water and he picked up speed as they shot through the air over the waking city.

In the kitchen of the compound Mrs. Brief was plating up a towering stack of waffles on a platter for the saiyan. She had to get up much earlier than she had since he left to make sure she had enough time to prepare his food, but she didn't mind. She was naturally an early riser and if there was one thing she enjoyed, it was cooking. So this morning she was in a fabulous mood, even for her, and she was singing, slightly off-key, with the radio she had turned on while cooking. She set the waffles on the table and turned to see that Bulma and Vegeta had just come in. She was used to seeing her daughter after a jog, so it didn't surprise her that she was sweaty, messy-haired, and dressed in old exercise clothes. Vegeta, on the other hand, she wasn't expecting to see hot on Bulma's heels looking as if he hadn't started his training for the day.

"Good morning, Bulma," Mrs. Brief said in her sing-song voice, "And Mr. Vegeta. Oh it's so good to see you at the breakfast table again! Have you been training this morning? You're always working so hard, it's just wonderful."

"Actually, Mom," Bulma said on behalf of the saiyan, "he went jogging with me."

"Oh, how nice, sweetie! It's so nice of him to take time out of his busy schedule to spend some time with you." Mrs. Brief's smile broadened as she turned back to the stove to flip an omelet.

Vegeta grunted and walked over to the refrigerator, his tail swishing slowly behind him. The rest of him disappeared behind the door as he opened it and Bulma smiled. She was getting better at reading his body language, but sometimes she still couldn't figure out exactly what he was feeling based on his expression or tail alone. Right now she assumed he was comfortable and felt unthreatened so he wasn't keeping it wrapped defensively around his waist, but it wasn't giving any hints of happiness, curiosity, or anything specific. Maybe it was his neutral expression, though she thought he had it loose around his waist when he wasn't feeling anything. She wished she could get in his head to figure it out, but shrugged when she decided it wasn't that important. Sooner or later she would make a connection and know what it meant.

Vegeta emerged from the fridge with a pitcher of orange juice and a few apples, which he devoured entirely, only spitting out the seeds and stems. He set the pitcher on the counter and raised an eyebrow expectantly at Bulma. When she didn't take the hint his tail twitched once in agitation and he growled shortly while motioning toward the juice. Her eyes widened when she understood and then rolled because of his unspoken request. Honestly, couldn't he do anything himself?

"What, Vegeta?" she asked innocently.

He glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know what, Woman."

"Oh, you mean you want me to pour you a glass of orange juice because for some reason you're incapable of doing it yourself," she teased as she pulled a glass out of the cupboard.

"Hn." He smacked her leg with his tail as he took the proffered glass of juice and drank it quickly. He set the glass on the counter and waited for her to refill it.

Bulma chuckled and poured him more juice, shaking her head at his steadfast refusal to do what he considered 'servant's work.' It used to annoy her a great deal the way he would demand others pour his drinks, but soon it became second nature for her and her parents to do it without him having to even say anything. She figured it was one small way they could treat him like a prince without too much ego inflation. His title really didn't mean anything to them since he was the prince of a dead race from another planet; she thought that he clung to it like a security blanket more than anything else. He knew as well as she did that it meant nothing to anyone in the universe, but it was all he had left to claim from his former life before Frieza, and of course it was a source of great pride even though he ruled over no one. His only 'subject' did not bow down to him as his prince and he was living under someone else's roof on a backwater planet where no one knew his name or feared his reputation or gave him his due respect.

It wasn't as though the Briefs didn't treat him with dignity and respect, but they didn't do it because he was a prince. They knew his background, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary for them. They had entertained many prominent politicians and governmental leaders over the years, so they were used to important figures roaming the halls of Capsule Corp. The thing was that, in a way, they were just as prestigious and powerful so titles held little water with them. They respected those who were worthy of respect and gave the cold shoulder to those who weren't. Somehow, despite his arrogant, prickly manner, Vegeta had earned the Briefs' trust and respect, so they put up with his volatile temper and absurd demands.

At least part of that respect was from their knowledge of his past. Instead of condemning him for the atrocities he had committed as Frieza's soldier, or slave, they focused on how well he had come out of it. He was the poster boy for childhood trauma, having suffered through untold physical and emotional abuse, humiliation, war, destruction, bloodshed, abandonment, and unimaginable tortures after being orphaned. He had been neglected, starved, beaten, raped, and experimented on. He was homeless, powerless, and friendless. His bodyguard couldn't protect him and he couldn't save himself. He first contemplated suicide when he was only six years old and mutilated himself for years before he finally gave it up, recognizing it as a symptom of Frieza's control over him. He lost his sanity when he was eight years old and attempted suicide several times during his teen years. When Frieza wasn't starving him he would starve himself; when Frieza hadn't beaten him he would beat himself in his training. He was self-destructive and self-loathing and pushed others away to protect himself from their hatred despite his loneliness.

Of course, the Briefs didn't know all the details. All they knew was that he had been a plaything of an evil, sadistic tyrant for most of his life, and he had survived more or less intact. If that didn't deserve their respect, they didn't know what did. He was a lost man with tons of emotional baggage attached, but they welcomed him into their home and he became a part of their little family. He was an endless source of intellectual interest and curiosity to the scientists and a sweet young man who needed love and food to the housewife. But no matter what he had originally started out as, he had ended up being their friend, protector, and pack mate. And they would trust their lives with him because they could all see there was more to him than met the eye, something that even Bulma's friends failed to see despite their good nature and trusting dispositions. He was a man of honor, a broken man, and yes, a prince. A prince who had never lived the pampered life of royalty, but they were going to give it to him in small ways because he deserved it after so many years of hardship.

Vegeta sat at the table while Bulma helped her mother set the table and finish up the eggs and bacon. Soon after, Dr. Brief joined them in the kitchen, newspaper in hand, and pecked his wife's and his daughter's cheeks before sitting at the table next to the saiyan. An unlit cigarette was hanging out from under his moustache and Scratch was, as always, perched on his shoulder meowing her opinion about the articles in the paper.

"Well, dear, it sure looks like you and that boyfriend of yours made the headlines," Dr. Brief commented as he paged through the paper.

Bulma groaned and shook her head. "I know, Dad. I saw all the papers at a newsstand in the city today. It's ridiculous! I don't know why anyone cares about my relationship with Yamcha. Or how the reporters keep finding me. I swear someone's following me around and calling all the papers when they see me step outside the compound." She sat down across from Vegeta and refilled his glass of orange juice and poured herself some.

Vegeta's eyes snapped to hers when she mentioned being followed around. He counted that as an unwelcome invasion of her privacy, and that riled him up a little, even if she was only kidding about it. Bulma didn't notice his look as she raised her juice to drink and looked over to where her mother was carrying the last platter of food to the table.

"Where is Yamcha, anyway?" Mrs. Brief asked as she sat down between Bulma and her husband. She hadn't seen the handsome man all morning, which was unusual.

A bark of laughter escaped Vegeta's lips and he snickered as he started piling waffles onto his plate and smothering them in strawberry syrup. The elder Briefs looked at him with raised eyebrows and then to Bulma when they saw he wasn't about to explain his amusement.

Bulma chuckled and rolled her eyes. "I guess he decided to leave last night. I don't know if or when he's going to come back to stay with us, but I'm sure he'll be around to train."

"Oh my," Mrs. Brief said sadly, "I hope he didn't think he was imposing."

"I don't think that's the problem, Mom," Bulma said around a bite of bacon. "I think he didn't feel comfortable staying here with Vegeta around now. Couldn't tell you why."

Dr. Brief looked at his daughter with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He knew exactly why Yamcha had taken his leave and why his daughter wasn't fully explaining the situation to his wife. She, along with Vegeta, and even himself, had gone out of their way to make him so uncomfortable he couldn't stand to stay at the compound. He was well aware of the strange animosity between the two boys and was, frankly, glad that it was Yamcha who left rather than the saiyan.

"What a pity," he mumbled snidely. He caught the saiyan smirking and even felt his tail brush against his leg as acknowledgment of his role in the conspiracy. He raised his paper higher to hide his own satisfied smirk and added, "Well, son, if you want to take a break from your training sometime today I'd be happy to take a look at your micro-gravity simulator. I'll be in my lab all day." Vegeta grunted and put another mountain of waffles on his plate.

"Oh that reminds me, Vegeta," Bulma said after swallowing a mouthful of omelet, "You can come down to my lab anytime to go over the blueprints for the training bots. I was thinking I could make them able to perform at increasing levels of difficulty to match your increasing strength. But I think I'll need you to help figure out exactly how to do that."

"Hn." Vegeta stuffed a waffle in his mouth and chewed slowly as he thought about the woman's idea. It made sense that instead of having to create entirely new bots whenever he surpassed their ability to withstand his punishment, he could simply up their level and have a challenge again. "After lunch."

Bulma nearly choked on her omelet. She had gotten him to say something when he was eating other than a grunt or growl or whatever other animalistic sounds he would sometimes give. Granted it had been an incredibly short reply, but it was something. She smiled and took another sip of her orange juice to stop her coughing as a piece of egg lodged itself behind her tonsil after her gasp of surprise.

Vegeta finished his meal and got up from his seat. His tail was still hanging behind him, swishing around in some unidentified emotion. He left the kitchen and turned down the hall toward the front door, deciding to do his morning training in the yard instead of the gravity room. Having indulged so heavily in nature on the forested planet, he was not ready yet to give up the feeling of the sun on his back, the grass under his feet, and the wind in his hair to spend all day in a hot, metal room without so much as a porthole.

He pushed the white button on his watch-like gravity simulator and turned it to 850Gs. He felt his weight increase to what would crush anyone else, even Goku, and started his warm-up routine. He didn't notice the blue-haired woman watching him from the window in the living room as he moved into his kata. She was entranced by the pure beauty of his movements. She had never been into fighting herself, but, perhaps because of the company she kept, she could appreciate the graceful, fluid show of power as more than mere violence. It was an art form, and Vegeta was a master greater than any of her friends. His fighting style was so alien and flawless. It looked like he took pieces of many different techniques he learned through the years and stitched them together into a seamless style all his own. It was impossible for anyone to replicate.

Bulma watched in stunned silence at the perfection with which he executed all of his attacks and defenses. Had he been fighting someone, there was no way they could have been able to land a blow on him, she was sure. But, in a real battle, he would not have been so lucky because a real opponent wouldn't act in a predictable manner, so while the kata was good practice, it was only a means of perfecting techniques that would be used in actual battle. She pulled herself away from the window and went down to her lab to get the blueprints she had pushed to the side with drawings of training bots. She grabbed them from her desk and went back to the main floor and then upstairs to the recreation room so she could sit out on the balcony and watch Vegeta as he trained while she worked on his bots.

Vegeta was busy creating a circle in the grass with a ki blade when she sat down at the table on the balcony. Seeing him destroying her perfect lawn, she jumped up to yell at him, but she was assaulted with curiosity when the circle was drawn and the ki blade disappeared as he moved to the edge of it, barely inside.

Vegeta crouched into the fighting stance he was famous for and flicked his tail once behind him before wrapping it tightly around his waist. In his mind he was facing off against a tall black reptilian alien with red compound eyes. They were standing on a circular piece of rock on a wasteland planet, surrounded all around by a sea of lava. He couldn't take the fight into the air because they were in a cave, and the only way out was past the alien creature.

He had been twelve years old at the time and foolishly followed an alien baiting him into the orange glowing cave. The heat had been extreme even for him, but the alien wasn't fazed by it. When he realized he was heading for a dead end, it occurred to him that he might have been followed and turned to see that, in fact, he was cornered by the strongest fighter on the planet. His power at the time was incredible for his age, at over 6,500, but he was weakened by the planet's low-oxygen atmosphere, blistering heat, and near starvation. Therefore, he was looking at going into battle with a maximum power level of 1,200 against an opponent of similar level who was accustomed to the planet's conditions.

Bulma kept an eye on him as he appeared to fight an invisible opponent in close hand-to-hand combat, never stepping outside of the circle. He never levitated off the ground more than a few feet and seemed to be trying to move to the other side of the circle as if he were being held back. She was puzzled by what he was doing and soon set her blueprints down to give his solo battle her full attention. His technique seemed less polished than before, but maybe it was because he was using more simplistic attacks with a splash of more advanced ones.

Vegeta raised his right arm to block an attack from above while dipping into a side kick in the opposite direction. The creature that had lured him into the cave had joined the fight, and though it was much weaker than the other alien, it was still a formidable foe in his current state. He had been trained extensively in combat with multiple adversaries and actually preferred it to combating a single opponent in some ways because he could play them against each other.

He was slowly working his way to the other side of the circle when he fell back and almost landed out of the circle. He caught himself right on the edge and jumped straight up in the air and flipped, pushing his foe out of the circle with his hands before he had turned over completely. He landed in a crouch and spun around in a leg sweep and grabbed the other fighter's leg and threw it up into the ceiling of the cavern before blasting it with a Galick gun. He smirked as he stood in the center of the circle while a yelp from above was heard.

Bulma's gaze shot up to the sky and she caught sight of Goku patting the back of his pants and wiggling his backside around in the air as it smoked. Apparently he had been hit by the unexpected purple energy beam. She looked back down at Vegeta, but he had not moved. He was standing perfectly still and didn't seem to have even noticed his rival's untimely appearance.

"Goku," she called, "are you alright?"

He grinned wide and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah I'm fine, Bulma. Just didn't see that one coming," he said glumly as he looked down at the saiyan prince. "Vegeta, did you do that on purpose?"

Vegeta stood like a statue. If they had been on his level that would have seen that his eyes were glazed over and known that he wasn't with them mentally. It was taking him longer to return to the present than normal after that battle. Finally he dug himself out of his memory and shook his head to clear his mind. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Kakarrot?"

Goku scratched his head again, this time in confusion. Didn't he know he was there already? "Yeah, I've been here a couple minutes."

"Why are you here?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to spar. See Chichi's making Gohan study all day 'cause she says he's been slacking and Piccolo went off to meditate somewhere, so I need a training partner," Goku explained as he lowered himself to the ground.

"Sorry, not interested," Vegeta said nonchalantly as he adjusted the gravity simulator.

Goku and Bulma's eyes nearly bugged out of their heads. Vegeta was turning down a fight with his rival? He must be sick, really. He would never in a million years turn down an opportunity to shame the younger saiyan. Or at least, they didn't think he would. But he had said it loud and clear: he was not interested in sparring with Goku.

"Why not?" Goku whined.

"Because," Vegeta said slowly for emphasis, "you are not a worthy opponent."

That comment felt like a physical blow to Goku. He was as worthy an opponent as Vegeta could get! He was a super saiyan. He knew fighting like the back of his hand. He – he really wanted to fight! He couldn't understand how Vegeta could turn him down when he had all those qualities in his favor. "What do you mean by that?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and turned his back on the younger saiyan. "You can't even compare to me in strength. Unless you have more than doubled your strength since you last fought me, you do not stand a chance. If you recall, I didn't even need to ascend to defeat you."

"Wait," Bulma interjected, "Vegeta beat you up that bad and he wasn't even a super saiyan? And you were?"

"Don't forget the fact that I was also fighting at 650Gs," Vegeta added smugly.

Goku's face flushed as he grinned again and rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't known about that last part. Instead of feeling ashamed of his defeat, though, he was proud of the older saiyan's accomplishment and he was confident they could easily beat the androids.

"Well, even so, I want to spar."

"I don't feel like wasting my time, Kakarrot." Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and flicked his tail behind him in irritation. "Why don't you spar with the weakling? He'll be here in three minutes." His suggestion made in the most patronizing tone he could muster, Vegeta walked into the compound. He was going to grab a snack and visit the old man in his lab.

Goku turned to face Bulma and raised an eyebrow. "Did that really just happen?"

"I think so." Bulma shook her head in disbelief. "He's been so different since he got back from space. Like he's got better control of himself or something."

"I don't know," Goku thought aloud, "I can tell there's his old anger and pride beneath the surface. I don't think it would take much to bring it out." He stopped and grinned again. "Then again, I don't know if I want it to come out. That new power he has is crazy when he's mad." His hand moved subconsciously to his shoulder and rubbed it.

Bulma chuckled and went back to drawing her blueprints. "I'd like to see him fight the way you said he did."

"Gosh, I don't know," Goku countered, "It's brutal. I kind of hope I never see it again. At least not on the receiving end."

"Hey, why don't you stick around, Goku? You could use the gravity room if you want to train. Or just hang out. Vegeta might change his mind about sparring later."

The tall saiyan thought about that for a minute and shrugged. It wouldn't hurt to take a break from training, and if he got too bored he could use the gravity room instead of a partner. He hadn't trained under increased gravity since he flew to Namek, but surely he was stronger now and could stand higher than 100Gs. Maybe not as much as 850Gs, but that wasn't the point. And even then, he probably could have stood up at least, if he had gone super saiyan. He would have to wait and hope the prince would decide to spar after all.

_A/N: Another update, yay! If I have time today I'll get busy editing the next chapter or two so I can update every day this week. But with lots of Nietzsche to read, who knows if that'll happen? Either way... Looks like Yamcha's not going to be in the picture much longer. Good, right? That's certainly not the end of the story, though! It's not even half complete yet. :)_

___And sheesh, I should have threatened not to update until I got a lot of reviews sooner... heh. Over 300 now! Yes, I definitely am a review whore. I need help with my addiction. _  


_Song: "King of the World" by Porcelain and the Tramps_


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

_Do you feel like a man when you push her around?  
Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?  
Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end  
As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found_

It was three weeks after Vegeta arrived back on Earth and he and Bulma had worked back into the same routine they kept to before he left, with the addition of jogging together in the morning. Vegeta would get up to train before Bulma rose and they would jog until breakfast. Bulma would go shower and head to her lab to work, Vegeta would go out in the yard to train, and they wouldn't see each other again until lunch. In the afternoon Vegeta went to the gravity room to train with the bots while Bulma returned to her lab most days, though she had been going to the headquarters building more often than she'd like to catch up on paperwork. Then they would meet again at dinner, Vegeta would return to the gravity room, and Bulma would spend the rest of the night relaxing, often with Yamcha who had also trained all day.

Vegeta had not taken a single day off from training since the day he returned, so he had been scarce in the compound. Bulma found herself wishing she could see him more often even though she spent the first two and half hours every day with him. She was reminded of his workaholic tendencies and one-track mind. He was disciplined in what he did, and what he did was train all day, every day. She was starting to wonder if he was ever going to take a day off again. It wouldn't be so bad to spend a day with him.

Meanwhile Yamcha had been hanging around essentially every day training outside. His focus had waned since Vegeta came back, but he was still training at least a few hours daily. It wasn't terribly intense, but he claimed his strength was growing, and Bulma noticed that his muscles had grown a little bulkier. She had to slap herself mentally whenever she compared his build to the saiyan's. While he was taller, he was thinner. Vegeta didn't have an ounce of fat on his body, she was sure, but he had lots of muscle. It was true, he was an attractive man. In ways more attractive than Yamcha.

But Bulma didn't let herself think about that for too long before she would shake her head to clear her thoughts. It was wrong to compare her friend and her boyfriend and come to the conclusion that her boyfriend did not measure up in physical prowess. She had no romantic interest in Vegeta and she still loved Yamcha, even if she had lost some trust in him with his wandering eyes and recently discovered habit of watching porn.

It was early afternoon on a muggy early September day and Bulma was going outside to take a drink to Yamcha. Vegeta disappeared into the gravity room after lunch, as usual, so she couldn't visit him, but she was feeling lonely and wanted to spend time with someone other than her robots in the lab. So she walked out the back door and caught sight of Yamcha doing one-handed push-ups near the swimming pool.

"Hey Yamcha," she called out to him, "I brought you a drink. Why don't you take a break?"

"Sure, B!" He jumped up to his feet and walked over to where she was sitting on the patio. There was a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses sitting on the table that looked very inviting. Truth be told he was rather thirsty and he was planning on going inside for a drink and a snack before Bulma came out.

Bulma watched as he downed a glass of tea and poured another. "So how goes the training?"

He finished his second glass of tea before answering her. "It's going well, I guess. Nothing too intense, but I can tell I'm getting stronger. That's what matters, right?"

Bulma smiled and nodded. He was singing the same tune he had started a couple weeks ago. She hardly expected him to say anything else anymore, but she kept asking anyway, hoping maybe he would find some motivation to turn up the heat a little.

'I know he's not as strong as Goku and Vegeta, but why does he have to slack off so much? He's nowhere near as disciplined as Vegeta even though he knows there's a threat coming in less than two years.' Bulma shook her head again when she realized that once again she was putting her boyfriend down in favor of her houseguest.

"So you want to do something this afternoon? I'm almost done training for the day," Yamcha said as he poured a third glass of tea.

"Done training? It's only been two hours!" Bulma pointed out with some exasperation.

Yamcha looked sheepish and scratched his head. "I know that, B, but that's all I need. I told you I'm getting stronger and I've hardly trained longer than three or four hours a day. And wouldn't you rather spend some time with me than have me train? Just for today?"

Bulma's loneliness nagged at her as she looked into the pleading brown eyes of her boyfriend. He knew how to get to her; she wanted attention bad enough to overlook his slacking off in his training. "Sure, Yam, what do you have in mind?"

He sat back in his chair and tapped his index finger against his chin as he thought about their options. "Hey I know!" he shouted in excitement, "Why don't we go see Roshi and Krillin? It's been a while since we've seen them."

He watched as Bulma broke out into a beaming smile and nodded enthusiastically. "Great idea, Yam! I bet Krillin would love a break from his training too!" She stood up so fast her chair fell over and ran back to the compound. "I'm going to tell Vegeta we're going – he hates breaks in his routine, you know, he might get upset if I'm not at dinner."

Yamcha cringed at his girlfriend's explanation for her hasty retreat. Of course, even when she was about to go out with him to have some fun, she's thinking about not throwing the stupid saiyan off his precious routine. He finished his tea and took the pitcher and glasses back inside to the kitchen. He forced himself to forget about the saiyan and focus on his trip to Kame house. It was going to be a blast!

An hour later Bulma landed her jet on the beach of the tiny island with the pink shack. Master Roshi was, as usual, sitting outside reading a girly magazine with a persistent bloody nose as he giggled and ogled the pictures. Krillin ran out from the house when he heard the jet and waved at his friends in greeting.

"Hey guys, what're you doing way out here?" he asked when they hopped out of the jet and Bulma capsulated it.

"Just came for a visit," Yamcha said as he fist bumped the bald warrior. "It's been a while, you know?"

"Well, Bulma, it sure is nice to see you," Roshi mumbled, his eyes clearly resting on her bosom rather than her eyes. She promptly smacked him in the side of the head and slapped the dirt off her hands when he fell over.

"Cool," Krillin said, gesturing for the visitors to come inside, "You guys want a beer?"

"Sure," they said as they followed him in.

Yamcha plopped down on the couch and flipped the TV on and found it was on the channel Roshi often watched with women doing aerobics in skimpy outfits. Bulma rolled her eyes and snatched the remote from her boyfriend to change the channel, much to his chagrin. Oolong came downstairs and saw the company and sat down on the floor in front of the TV.

Krillin came back from the kitchen with three beers and handed two of them off to the couple before sitting on the floor with his back resting against the couch.

"You been training hard, buddy?" Yamcha asked as he popped the lid off his beer.

Krillin rubbed his head and nodded. "Yeah, though I don't know why. It's hardly going to make a difference. We all know Goku and Vegeta are going to be the ones who defeat the androids. They probably won't even need our help."

Bulma scoffed and smacked his head. "Stop talking like that, Krillin," she chided. "Just because they're super strong doesn't mean you're not going to be able to help." She propped up her feet on the table and took a sip of beer while she flipped through the channels.

"I guess," he muttered. "How's it been with Vegeta back?"

Yamcha bristled a little when he saw how much Bulma brightened at the mention of the saiyan prince. "Eh, you know, same old. He trains, eats, and sleeps. Don't see him much."

Krillin laughed and nodded again. "That figures." He took a deep swig of beer and turned to the TV when Bulma finally chose something to watch. It was a science fiction movie with aliens attacking Earth with their laser beams and abducting people into their flying saucers. He laughed again. "That is so not even what aliens are like."

Bulma joined him in laughing at the movie. "Yeah, I know. Movies like this used to freak me out but now I think they're hilarious because they're so unrealistic. If only the guys in Hollywood knew what aliens are _really_ like. Green aliens with antennae are actually really tall."

All four in the room laughed at that when they thought about Piccolo and Kami. It was true: they were green aliens with antennae and they towered over everyone else in their little gang. But for some reason Hollywood ran on the assumption that aliens were short little guys.

The front door slammed shut as Roshi came in to join the party. He sat down on the floor by Krillin and watched the movie with them, though he was more interested in the long, shapely legs next to him, as well as the rest of the woman attached to them. There definitely weren't enough pretty girls in the movie for his taste, just a bunch of men and ugly little aliens that might have been mini-Piccolos.

When the movie ended it was getting late in the afternoon and many stomachs were rumbling. "Why don't I order us some pizzas?" Roshi asked as he stood up and stretched, trying to 'accidentally' touch Bulma's chest as she stood as well. He yelped when she smacked his hand away.

"That sounds good," Krillin said. He turned the TV off and grabbed the empty beer bottles and took them into the kitchen to throw away and get some more.

While Roshi was busy ordering the pizzas, Yamcha and Bulma sat back on the couch and snuggled a little closer. She was entertaining a slight buzz from the alcohol and Yamcha, well, he didn't need a reason to engage in public displays of affection.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Roshi called from his place by the stairs.

"Yoo-hoo! Is my sweet little Krillin here?" came a somewhat shrill, feminine voice from the other side of the door.

Several jaws dropped. Krillin was the first to speak. "Maron?"

"Of course it's me, silly, are you going to let me in?"

Krillin looked around at the others, but they weren't any help in his decision. They were as baffled as he was. He had broken up with the ditzy blue-haired girl over two years ago and now she just showed up out of nowhere. Not knowing what else to do, he shrugged and opened the front door and was immediately assaulted by the ample bosom of his ex-girlfriend.

Maron picked Krillin up in a tight hug and swung him around all the while babbling about how much she missed him and he was her only true love and she wanted him to take her back. The others thought she was going to pass out if she didn't take a breath soon.

Finally the bald warrior was able to pry himself free of her death grip and take a few steps back to regain his personal space. He rubbed his head and gave her a questioning look as he asked, "Gee, Maron, what are you doing here? It's been a while."

She clapped her hands together and held them to the side of her head as she stared off dreamily and replied, "Oh Krillin, it's been way too long. I didn't realize until after I'd lost you that you were the only man for me. You treated me so much better than all my other boyfriends."

"Lucky dog," Roshi muttered as he watched the strange exchange. Then, more boldly, "Hey, darling, do you remember me?" He walked up to her, hands poised for some serious groping, before Bulma punched him in the face to defend the other woman. She wasn't a huge fan of the hussy, but no one deserved to have that pervert's paws on them.

"Hey, Maron!" Yamcha greeted with a friendly wave from the couch. "What's up?"

"Oh hey, Yamcha!" she squealed. "I just came to see my sweet little Krillin. What are you doing here?" She ran across the room and sidled up next to him on the couch. So much for her interest in the short, bald man. Everyone collectively sighed, except Yamcha.

"Visiting my buddy," he answered while taking a good long look at the cleavage she was thrusting toward him. "You want to hang around? We ordered pizza and we've got beer in the fridge."

Bulma glowered at her boyfriend and marched over to the couch and grabbed him by the ear and pulled him off the couch to the other side of the room. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

He held his hands up defensively and stammered a little as he tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't incriminate him. "Nothing, B, just being friendly."

"That's a little too friendly in my opinion. Don't think I didn't see what you were looking at!" She slapped his face and stormed into the kitchen.

Maron laughed and waved her hand in dismissal of the couple's display. "Don't worry about her, Yammy," she cooed, "She's just an old, insecure woman." She grinned and patted the seat next to her in invitation for him to join her. Yamcha laughed nervously but went over and sat next to her.

Krillin sweat-dropped when he saw his friend sitting with his ex-girlfriend who less than five minutes ago had been gushing over how wonderful he was and begging him to take her back. Looks like she hadn't been too sincere, or at least not too focused. That had been a problem he had constantly when they were dating: she was too easily distracted by other men and their cars, boats, or perfect hair. His shoulders drooped and he sighed as he followed Bulma into the kitchen. He didn't want to see the awkward display on the couch any more than Bulma.

Roshi, meanwhile, was having a severe nosebleed and had to run upstairs to stop it before he bled to death. The sight of the voluptuous Maron was enough to set him off. Oolong ignored them all and sat in front of the TV again and flipped it on and back to the aerobics channel. Nothing was going to spoil his idea of a good time.

"Hey, Bulma," Krillin said, almost apologetically, as he went into the kitchen.

Bulma turned to face him and pushed herself up on the counter. "I can't believe him, Krillin! He's totally flirting with that floozy. No offense," she added quickly.

"None taken," he said and leaned against the counter next to her. "She's not the girl for me, anyway. I can see that now. She says she wants one thing and runs off to something else."

Bulma nodded and tapped her feet against the cupboard door below the counter. "Is it wrong for me to be so upset with the way he's acting? I mean, he wouldn't ever leave me for someone like her, would he?"

Krillin shrugged and drew doodles on the tile floor with his toe. He wanted to tell Bulma that she should be secure in her relationship with Yamcha, but he knew as well as the others did that Yamcha had a tendency to wander. He wasn't nearly as bad as Maron, and he had never done anything more than date another girl at the same time as Bulma, but that wasn't excusable. He liked Yamcha a lot; after all, he was a great friend and close ally on the battlefield, but he really couldn't say that he would stick with Bulma. They had always had a rocky relationship and it had been off-and-on through the years. He was actually surprised they were still together.

Bulma sighed and rested her chin in her hands. "You know I've started to have doubts about our relationship. I think I still love him, but more as a friend."

Krillin turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"

"A couple weeks ago." She sighed again and for a while the only sound was her heels tapping against the cupboard. Maron's unexpected visit had proven to be a real downer. "Should we go back out there and try to act civil?"

"You can if you want," the bald man said, "But I'd rather stay here. I don't really want to see her, if you know what I mean. I've gotten over her and I'm afraid I might start wanting her back if I'm around her too much. She's an airhead, but she grows on you."

Bulma chuckled and shook her head. "Can't say I want to see her either. And I really don't want to see the way Yamcha's all over her. He's too much of a flirt for his own good."

Silence fell again and this time it was uninterrupted until there was a knock on the front door again. "I'll get it," Krillin called out as he ran out of the kitchen to the door. The pizza delivery man handed the stack of pizzas over and Krillin paid him. "Pizza's here!" he shouted up the stairs to Roshi. A minute later the old man came down and joined everyone at the table in front of the TV to eat.

After the pizzas were polished off Bulma stood up and stretched as she checked her watch. "Hey, Yamcha, it's getting kind of late. I should be getting back to Capsule Corp."

"Oh no!" Maron exclaimed and threw her arms around Yamcha's shoulders. "It's too early to leave!"

Bulma scowled at the other blue-haired woman who had a death grip on her boyfriend. He was laughing nervously and blushing but not even fighting it. Obviously, he didn't mind his predicament that much. Bulma growled in the back of her throat and threw her bottle of beer at his head. "You big idiot! If you like her so much why don't you just date her?" she yelled.

The bottle bounced off his head and flew across the room. "Ow, B, what'd you do that for?" He rubbed his head where it had hit.

"Yeah, what's your problem, old lady?" Maron demanded as she hugged Yamcha tighter. "Can't stand a little competition because I'm younger and prettier?"

Those were fighting words if Bulma ever heard any. She stomped her foot and put one hand on her hip while the other pointed accusingly at the younger woman. "Now look here, you bitch, I'm not that old, and I'm way more beautiful than you'll ever be! Just because I don't put my rack on display like you do and hang all over every man who looks my way doesn't mean you're prettier. You're a slut!"

Yamcha frowned and held his hand up to stop the catfight. "Ladies, please," he started.

"Shut up!" Bulma yelled. "You cheating jerk! If you're going to cheat the least you could do is try to hide it from me. That's it! We're over, for good!" She clenched her teeth and fought back the tears that were forming in her eyes. Even if she had thought about it for a while, actually breaking up with her boyfriend of fifteen years was hard even if she'd done it many times before. But she had a feeling that this time would be for good.

"Bulma, please!" he shouted as he pushed Maron off and ran after his retreating girlfriend. "Come on, it's not like that, we're just friends."

Bulma rounded on him and jabbed a finger in his chest. "Don't feed me that garbage, I'm not an idiot. Friends don't cuddle and bury their faces in each other's chests like that!"

Yamcha scowled and shot back, "Oh really? You mean like how you and Vegeta cuddle. And how he buries his face in _your _chest?" He heard a round of stunned gasps from behind but he didn't care. He wasn't going to be accused of doing anything wrong if it wasn't wrong for her.

"That's _different_, Yamcha, and you know it," she spat.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's different because he's an alien, right? That's fucking bullshit and you know it! He knows our customs enough to know he shouldn't do that! And you let him do it with the excuse that you're what, _pack mates?_" he shouted, putting a doubtful tone to the last words.

"Uh, guys, could you calm down?" Krillin piped up in the momentary silence. Bulma and Yamcha both shot him and angry glare and he backpedaled to where he had been sitting.

Bulma slapped Yamcha's face as hard as she could, leaving a red hand print on his cheek. He snapped his head back to face her and, without thinking, raised his hand and slapped her back. She flew into the wall and crumpled to the floor. Immediately his anger dissipated and he ran over to her. "Oh Kami, B, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that, I just got so mad! B? Are you alright?"

She looked at him with fear in her eyes and shrank back when he reached out to touch her cheek that was red and slightly swollen. The tears she had fought back before were streaming down her face. "You hit me!" she breathed out in disbelief. She couldn't believe it. They had been in countless fights through the years, but they had always been verbal. She may have slapped him sometimes, but only because she knew she couldn't really hurt him. But now he had hit her back, and it hurt like hell. And why? Because of jealousy. On both sides.

Krillin, Roshi, and Oolong ran over to the fallen woman and pushed Yamcha away to help her up. They had never seen one of their fights get so out of control and it shocked them as much as it did Bulma and Yamcha.

When Bulma was back on her feet she tenderly touched her cheek and winced at the pain. "You hit me!" she repeated, this time yelling. She was hurt, betrayed, and furious.

"Bulma, I didn't mean to, I swear!"

She held up her hand to silence the scar-faced man's apologies and shook her head slowly. "No, just shut up. If it wasn't over before, it is now. You've never hit me before and you never will again. Honestly, Yamcha! You're afraid of Vegeta hurting me? He's never raised a hand against me and he never would no matter how much I piss him off, you creep!" The tears were coming down more steadily now and her vision blurred, but she could see the way her ex-boyfriend was gaping at her.

"But _Bulma!_"

"Shut. Up!" she screamed at him and pushed past her friends to run out the door. They were left staring, the only sound in the room her distant sobs and the TV.

Maron shrugged it off and asked, "So does that mean you're single now?"

Yamcha shook his head and mumbled, "Not now, Maron." He went upstairs, wanting to be alone for a while and cool off. He had really blown it this time.

Bulma sat out on the beach and hugged her knees to her chest. She was in shock at what had happened. He hit her, he really hit her. He could have hit a whole lot harder, but that wasn't the point. He raised his hand against her and knocked her down. She angrily wiped the tears from her face and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She wasn't fit to fly her jet and she needed a ride home. She wouldn't go with Yamcha if he were the last man on Earth.

Vegeta was grabbing a snack out of the refrigerator after his training when the phone started ringing. He ignored it at first since it was usually picked up by one of the Briefs after three or four rings. But after the tenth ring it was starting to get on his nerves. He slammed the fridge shut after grabbing a package of ground beef and stomped over to the phone. He did what he had seen the others do and picked it up and held it to his ear. "What?" he barked.

Bulma nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud, rude greeting. "Vegeta?" she asked in a shaky voice. That was unexpected.

The saiyan rolled his eyes and tore the package of meat open with his free hand. "Of course, Woman. What do you want?"

"Are my parents there?"

"They retired for the night."

"Oh." There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Well…Vegeta, could you come pick me up?"

He nearly spit out the piece of meat he had stuffed in his mouth. "What for? Can't you fly your blasted vehicle?"

Bulma frowned and played with a loose strand of hair before she answered. "I don't think it would be a good idea now. Please, Vegeta? I want to go home and I don't want that idiot Yamcha anywhere near me. Please."

Vegeta felt an unfamiliar tight feeling in his chest when he heard the frightened, pleading tone in her voice. He immediately knew something wasn't right and she needed him, her pack mate, there with her now. "I'm coming." He hung up the phone and grabbed the package of meat on his way out the door.

Ten minutes later Vegeta landed on the beach next to the blue-haired woman. He could hear others in the house and wondered why she hadn't had any of them return her home. He shook that out of his head and pulled her to her feet.

"Let's go –" He stopped and his eyes widened in shock. He touched her cheek gently and pulled back like he was burned when she winced. Her beautiful face was red, swollen, and bruising. He narrowed his eyes angrily and demanded, "Who did this?"

Bulma shook her head. "Vegeta let's go. Don't worry about it."

He wrapped his tail so tightly around her waist it was almost hard for her to breathe. "Tell me, Woman. Who hurt you? Was it the weakling?"

"Please, don't hurt him," she mumbled and bowed her head, trying to hide behind her long hair.

Vegeta growled louder than she had ever heard him before as he pulled her against him. The vibrations rumbled through her body almost painfully as he picked her up and carried her back into the house, knocking the door off its hinges. The people still downstairs almost jumped through the ceiling and stared open-mouthed at the royally pissed off saiyan who was holding Bulma in his arms.

"Where is he?" he shouted, baring his teeth as his tail bristled to three times its normal size. He was ready to fight and nothing was going to stop him.

The others all jumped again and backpedaled away from him. "W-who?" Krillin squeaked.

"Vegeta, calm down," Bulma cooed in his ear. "He's not worth it. Really. I don't want you to hurt him."

Vegeta shook his head and growled again. "He is not getting away with this."

"Please, 'Geta. I have a headache and I really just want to go home."

But the saiyan wasn't listening. Instead he was sensing for the weakling's ki. When he couldn't find it he realized the coward was suppressing his ki so far it was practically nonexistent. He snarled and readjusted Bulma so her legs were around his waist and she was holding onto his neck like when he had taken her to bed a few weeks ago.

"You weakling!" he roared, "Come out now or I'll blow this island to oblivion!"

"Wait a minute!" Roshi protested, but was silenced by a murderous look from the prince.

"He's upstairs," Oolong shouted with a trembling voice. He was hiding under the table and covering his head with his hands. He didn't care about Yamcha's fate, he wanted to live.

Vegeta snarled again and stormed up the stairs, still holding Bulma close. The others watched him go, jaws dropped in fear, surprise, and amazement. "What was his deal?" Krillin wondered aloud. Had everything Yamcha said about Bulma and Vegeta been true?

"Krillin, you have to go save Yammy! That psycho is going to hurt him!" Maron screeched, shaking him by his shoulders.

The bald warrior slapped her hands away and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "No way, Maron. There is absolutely no way I'm getting in Vegeta's way when he's on the warpath. I feel bad for Yamcha, but he _did _hurt Bulma. He won't kill him… I think."

Vegeta kicked down the door where he heard someone whimpering in fear. He stalked into the dark room and looked around for the weakling. He didn't need the lights to see and quickly found Yamcha huddled in a corner behind a bureau of drawers, trembling like a scared child. He was rocking back and forth and looked like he was about to meet his doom. Maybe he was. Vegeta hadn't decided yet.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" he shouted, but it came out more as a growl.

"W-what do you mean, Vegeta?" the weakling asked, hoping against hope he would live through the night.

Vegeta's tail tightened further around Bulma and he growled again. With his teeth bared and feral look in his eyes, it wasn't surprising that Yamcha felt like he was looking at the devil incarnate.

Bulma rested her head on Vegeta's shoulder and tried to calm him down again. She ran her hand through his hair and cooed in his ear, "Vegeta, let it go. You've scared him enough, he won't do it again. He won't have a chance to. Our relationship is over."

Vegeta scoffed and walked over to where Yamcha was cowering and picked him up by the collar of his shirt so they were at eye level. "You fucking piece of shit, no one hurts anyone in my pack and gets away with it," he hissed. He walked out of the room, still holding the terrified warrior, and threw him down the stairs.

The crowd in the living room jumped once again and backed away from Yamcha's crumpled form. There was a decent human-shaped hole in the floor that he crawled out of, desperate to get away from the crazed saiyan. Vegeta leaped down the stairs and landed with his foot between Yamcha's shoulder blades, pinning him to the floor.

"Vegeta, _please_," Bulma begged, "Leave him alone now. You've made your point."

He still wasn't listening to her. His instincts had taken control of his body and there was no going back. Someone had raised a hand against his pack mate and he was going to pay for it. On his honor he would exact revenge on her behalf since she couldn't take it herself. She gasped when his already too tight grip tightened around her waist.

"Get off, Vegeta," Yamcha shrieked as he tried to pull himself away.

"Yeah, get off him you crazy jerk!" Maron screamed, storming across the room toward the furious saiyan. Vegeta glanced at the woman and did a double take. She looked like his woman, only with longer hair and bigger breasts, and she wasn't as attractive by any stretch of the imagination, in his opinion. He sneered at her and turned his attention back to the weakling.

Krillin grabbed Maron's hand and jerked her back. "Not a good idea, Maron." He refused to let her go even though she was struggling against his hold. She didn't like that creep who was beating up her poor little Yammy.

Vegeta dug his heel into the other man's back before standing back from him. When Yamcha raised himself up to his hands and knees, Vegeta kicked him, sending him through the wall and flying out into the ocean. A collective gasp followed, and then the screaming and yelling started. But Bulma was silent. She knew Vegeta had shown restraint despite his intense anger and she wasn't going to yell at him for it. She was thankful that Yamcha would be ok. Even though she was furious with him, she didn't wish any lasting harm on him.

The saiyan turned around and set Bulma on the stairs and crouched in front of her. His tail uncoiled from her waist and brushed lightly against her cheek. "Now tell me what he did to you," he ordered her.

Bulma tried to hide behind her hair again, but he pushed it back behind her ear. "We were arguing and it got out of control. I slapped him and he slapped me back."

Vegeta growled again low in his throat and glanced over his shoulder through the hole in the wall. The bald midget had gone to save the weakling from drowning since he had probably been knocked out and the rest of the idiots were standing around staring at him. He gave them a look that told them to back off and turned back to Bulma.

"Were you eating raw meat again?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrow at her. "I hardly think that's important, Woman."

She wrinkled her nose and put her hand over his mouth. "Your breath smells like raw meat though. Yuck."

Vegeta chuckled and gently bit her hand. She quickly retracted it and gave him a playful smack on the shoulder. He pulled her close and gently rubbed his cheek against hers, covering the weakling's scent, and nipped her nose before pulling back again.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered.

He looked over his shoulder again when he heard the midget land on the beach with the weakling slung over his shoulder. He snarled and his tail puffed up again. But then he felt a gentle hand stroking his hair and calmed down. He turned back to Bulma and wrapped his tail around her waist again. He pulled her close and stood them up.

Krillin and Yamcha were hobbling in the door now, skirting around the saiyan. "If you ever hurt her again," Vegeta warned, "I will kill you." The way he said it didn't leave any room for doubt. It was calm, to the point, lacking menace. When he spoke like that, he meant business. He was stating a fact and that was all there was to it.

The saiyan watched as the other blue-haired woman ran over to Yamcha and engulfed him in a big hug and cried hysterically after being so worried about him. He raised his eyebrow and looked questioningly at Bulma. She sighed and looked away. "And that's why we broke up."

Vegeta nodded and picked her up. "He doesn't deserve you," he whispered in her ear. He felt Bulma's smile against his chest and walked out of the house and took off into the sky.

'I wasn't there to protect you. That will never happen again.'

_A/N: For those of you interested in this detail… I know there isn't a couch in Roshi's house. But I don't know what the thing is called that he has. Oh well. Also, this doesn't mean Yamcha's an abusive boyfriend because he's not. I don't hate his character _that_ much. His anger got out of control and he'd been drinking a lot of beer. Not that his behavior is excusable, but it was a one-time thing. I hope you noticed the fragility of Yamcha and Bulma's relationship all along. It wasn't like it completely crumbled in a matter of three chapters or so. It wasn't a healthy relationship from the start and I tried to show that in subtle ways._

_Another fun fact: Classes were canceled again today, which means more time for editing!_

_Please review! They brighten my dreary days of staying indoors and freezing…_

_Song: "Face Down" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

_I feel irrational, so confrontational  
To tell the truth  
I am getting away with murder_

The autumnal equinox came and passed and like clockwork the green leaves of the trees turned orange, red, and yellow and started dropping to the ground. Summer was over and autumn had come overnight. The sun still warmed the air, but each day the temperatures were dropping a little lower, never reaching up to the sweltering heat of summer. Morning came later and evening came earlier, but that was the natural progression of seasons.

Bulma and Vegeta were jogging through the city park, the dead, colorful leaves crunching and rustling under their feet. The sky was still gray in the early morning light and fewer joggers were out and about than they had seen during the summer. It was the beginning of October, after all, and the motivation to exercise had died along with the leaves of the trees.

But the routine of the blue-haired woman and the saiyan prince had remained constant. Train, jog, train, train, train for him and jog, work, work, work for her. They started jogging earlier in the morning as Bulma's endurance grew so they would have enough time to get back to the compound before breakfast, which meant getting up before the first light of dawn. At first it had bothered Bulma, but she grew used to it and was encouraged by Vegeta's silence on it. He was not particularly a morning person, but he rose before dawn every day of his life anyway, so she could do it too, for part of the year.

They had been going for twelve miles when Bulma slowed to a stop and panted for air. As usual, Vegeta stopped with her though he wasn't even breathing hard. His tail flicked impatiently behind him as he waited for her to regain her composure. For some reason he was agitated that morning and he didn't know why. Nothing was different than normal. Honestly, though, he'd been feeling an increasing sort of agitation since the night he took Bulma home from Kame house. It built day by day and it was nearly unbearable now.

When Bulma finally caught her breath she gently tugged his arm as she turned around to go back the way they had come. "So did Goku ask you any weird questions yesterday when he came to visit?"

"You mean did he ask me how my relationship with you was going?" Vegeta rolled his eyes at the memory and his tail flicked again.

"He did? He asked me the same thing, basically. I don't know what he was getting at."

Vegeta shrugged and said nothing. What was there to say to Kakarrot's idiocy? He apparently thought there was something going on between him and the blue-haired woman when there was not. He knew that she was 'available' since she had dumped that worthless weakling trash, but that didn't automatically make him interested in her as a mate. Besides, he doubted she would ever be interested in him, either.

They walked quietly for a few minutes. They had barely been talking the past few days because they had simply run out of new things to say. He trained, she worked. They hadn't even seen each other at meals regularly since it was becoming common for at least one of them to skip a meal completely or eat later or earlier than the rest of the family. Work at Capsule Corp had gotten hectic and Vegeta had thrown himself into his training even more after the incident with Yamcha slapping Bulma. He couldn't explain why, but he needed to release his aggression more than usual since then.

"How many days have you been a super saiyan now?"

"Eight."

Bulma whistled and shook her head. "You amaze me. It's a good thing we have so much money or we'd never be able to afford to feed you. You eat three times as much as Goku at every meal." She winked at him and nudged him with her shoulder.

He grunted and nudged her back. "I think I'll be able to go a few more days, then I'll work in my base form for a couple weeks."

She nodded and looked over at the blonde saiyan. "What gravity are you at?"

"Right now? 1200Gs."

Her eyes widened slightly but she shrugged one shoulder. It wasn't really that surprising anymore. She knew he could take more if he wanted to, but he usually only increased his gravity when he was doing his intense afternoon training. He had taken to keeping the high gravity on around the clock just like he stayed transformed. She understood his goal of making his ascension and ability to fight in incredible gravity feel natural. It would make fighting in less gravity with less power easy, giving him a huge advantage in battle.

Bulma shivered as a cold breeze blew across her sweat-soaked clothes. She put her arms around herself and moved closer to Vegeta who was radiating heat. When he noticed her chill he wrapped his tail around her waist and drew her in closer. His skin burned against hers in a soothing way and she leaned into him more and put her arm around him.

Neither said anything for the remainder of their long walk back to Capsule Corp. When they walked in the front door they were struck by the sweet aroma of eggs, sausage, and French toast. They made a beeline for the kitchen and sat down in their respective seats at the table. Dr. Brief was already there reading his paper and sipping a cup of coffee and Mrs. Brief was setting the last of the food on the table. It really did look like they were trying to feed three saiyans instead of one. They couldn't even see each other over the piles of food in the center of the table.

"How was the weather this morning?" Dr. Brief asked as he turned a page of his paper.

Bulma finished chewing a mouthful of eggs and answered, "Nice out. Kind of cool, but they sky is clear and I think it's going to be a sunny day." She thought she saw the top of her father's head dip in a nod and turned back to eating. That was all he wanted to know.

The rest of the meal passed quietly aside from an occasional comment about an article in the paper or Mrs. Brief asking her family and guest if they needed anything more to eat. The only one who ever did was Vegeta, but that was expected. Bulma sat sipping her coffee after she had finished eating and watched as the tower of French toast steadily shrank, disappearing into the bottomless pit of the saiyan's stomach.

When the food had all somehow been stuffed into his lithe body, he stood up to leave to get started with his post-breakfast training. Bulma watched, appreciating the view as she continued sipping her coffee. Now that she wasn't dating Yamcha she felt more free to look at Vegeta's divine body. She found herself not only attracted to his muscle but also curious about the scars littering his body. She was sure each one had a story to tell and she wanted to hear them even though the stories were far from being fairy tales.

He was an unending source of interest for her. She was amazed at his power and fighting skills, sure, but she was also interested in him as a person. She wanted to know more about him than he would ever be willing to reveal, which frustrated her, but she knew she couldn't change it. He was a private man, keeping to himself. His aloofness was mysterious and somehow alluring. The more he pushed her away the more she wanted to be with him. Though he had told her he was a member of her pack, he was still shielded from her prying questions, he had barriers at every turn when she tried to trick him into revealing anything, and he avoided her altogether when she got too nosey.

Bulma was not used to being friends with a reserved person. Goku, Yamcha, Krillin, even Roshi were all open books about their thoughts and feelings. She had known them for half her life so they were able to hold few secrets from her. She had been with them on their crazy adventures and watched as they grew in strength and battled against incredible enemies. She had cheered them on and supported them in all their feats. But they were different than Vegeta. She had only been around him for maybe a year total, and he had told her essentially nothing about himself except the basics: he was Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, most powerful being in the universe who hated Kakarrot, destroyed planets, killed billions of people, and loved eggrolls.

Vegeta was closer to Bulma than he was to any other living being, and yet she was almost as much in the dark about who he really was as anyone else. She wondered how he could be so distant and so close at the same time. He was her pack mate, her friend, but she didn't even know his age or what his favorite color was. Physically he was near, sometimes even cuddling with her, but his past was unknown and what went on in his head was an enigma she had no hope of ever figuring out. She could see small hints of his feelings in his eyes or tail when they weren't guarded, but even that wasn't an exact science.

The more she thought about her ignorance of the prince, the more she wanted to drag something – anything – out of him. Just one little secret, some small fact that would make her feel like she knew him better. Did he like music? What was he like as a child? Would he prefer paper or plastic? She had no idea, and that bothered her. If she were to start asking questions he would shut down completely; she knew that from experience. When he first came to stay at Capsule Corp she had tried finding some things out about him and he went into hiding for two weeks. Yes, he was private, an introvert, and, dare she say it? Shy? Was her mother right? She shook her head. She knew he wasn't shy. He really did just like keeping to himself for his own reasons. She thought it might to be protect her from knowing too much, but the more rational part of her brain told her it was more likely that he was protecting himself from his memories by refusing to unearth them.

All these thoughts rushed through Bulma's head a mile a minute before the door had even shut behind Vegeta's finely sculpted backside. She shook her head and downed the rest of her coffee. She excused herself and left the kitchen to grab her jacket since she was, unfortunately, going to work at the headquarters building again. Taking her position as vice president more seriously had come with a price: she actually had to participate in the business side of the company instead of sitting alone in her lab inventing new products every day.

'Maybe I'll just have to go to him when he's more mentally vulnerable. That way he won't be so closed off to me and I'll get to learn some new things about him.' Bulma smirked as ideas started floating through her genius mind as she drove to headquarters. She was going to start that night. Her curiosity was clouding her better judgment about giving the saiyan his space.

Vegeta's agitation had not dampened through the whole morning. At lunch he was strained to stay civil while Mrs. Brief babbled incessantly about her flowers, new muffin recipes, and tea parties. Normally, he had no trouble ignoring her, but for some reason he was unable to keep his mind busy enough and he kept finding himself listening to her, which irritated him greatly. Just because he was grateful for her cooking and considered her part of his pack did not mean he cared what she had to say. She didn't notice his tail flicking with severe irritation and didn't notice when he abruptly excused himself even though he hadn't finished his meal.

As he walked through the halls to the gravity room he muttered a string of curses in many alien languages. He slammed the gravity room door shut behind him and turned the gravity up to 1500Gs. The training bots came to life and started firing energy beams at him and flying at him with short spears for him to dodge. His body was shaking but not from exertion. He was not tired and the gravity was not overly difficult to handle. There was unbound aggression lurking just under the surface and it was threatening to unleash itself at any moment. Vegeta destroyed all the bots without any effort and screamed his rage. His tail lashed angrily behind him and his lips curled in a snarl as he powered up to uncharted levels.

'This feels like the first time I ascended,' he thought. He turned the gravity back to normal and ran out of the gravity room, dashed out the front door and took off into the air headed southeast. 'It's been too long since a real fight. Since I've felt fresh blood on my hands.'

"Kakarrot!" he roared as he landed in front of the small house on Mount Paozu. "Get out here, right now!" His ki flared even higher and he growled when he had to wait five seconds for the other saiyan to appear before him.

"What's wrong Vegeta?" Goku shouted as he ran out the door.

"You, me, spar. _Now_," Vegeta snapped. His tail was lashing behind him and his teeth were bared. Goku knew that look and it scared him: Vegeta had gone into animal mode.

Goku held up his hands and backed across the threshold into the house. "Just wait, Vegeta, I'm eating lunch."

Faster than the eye could see Vegeta powered up a ki ball and threw it at the younger saiyan's head. "I said now!"

By now Chichi, Gohan, and Piccolo had all come running to see what the disturbance was. The two warriors felt a huge spike in Vegeta's ki and knew that there was trouble afoot. What they didn't know was what that trouble was and how badly it would turn out for Goku. They heard the older saiyan's demand and were tempted to roll their eyes at his impatience, but something in the way he said it spoke of his serious _need_ to spar _immediately. _He almost sounded borderline insane.

Chichi had missed out on that, though. She pointed a finger at Vegeta from behind Goku and screamed, "You get out of here, Vegeta! Goku's eating and you're not welcome here!"

A strange sound crossed between a roar and a growl erupted from Vegeta's chest and he fixed a deadly glare on the brunette. She immediately shut her mouth and backed up further into the house and out of sight. She preferred her heart to continue beating, thank you very much.

"Alright, Vegeta," Goku said, deadpan, "I'll spar with you. Just calm down." He didn't want to admit that he was now, literally, shaking in his boots, but he knew that the other saiyan could probably smell his fear. He was even worse than he had been on that other planet. He was completely wild; whatever trace of humanity – for lack of a better word – he had was gone. That hidden power he had was rising to the surface and he knew their fight was going to get ugly, and he hoped that Vegeta would at least be able to control himself enough to not kill him.

Gohan glanced at the older saiyan and back to his father. He could also sense the danger his father was walking into. Vegeta meant business, which was never a good thing for his opponent. What had ruffled his feathers so much they couldn't imagine, but something had snapped and Vegeta was looking for a fight, or at least a punching bag of flesh and blood.

"Dad, we're coming with you, in case things get too rough," Gohan said and looked up at Piccolo who nodded in agreement.

Goku looked uneasy about that idea. He was the only one who knew how feral Vegeta could be, and it looked like he might have only seen the tip of the iceberg. But, if he could get Vegeta to agree to not hurt either Piccolo or Gohan since the spar was between them, he could allow them to come and watch. And help him get fixed up after the fight. He nodded. "Get the senzu beans Korin gave us. I, for one, am going to need one."

Vegeta snarled and gnashed his teeth. "What is taking so long? Get out here and fight!"

Goku braced himself before saying, "I will only fight you if you agree not to hurt Gohan or Piccolo while we're fighting."

"Fine! Let's _go._" The urgency in his voice was unnerving to the others. They had never seen Vegeta like this, and at least one of them was hoping never to see it again. Not when he was the chosen opponent, anyway. Goku sighed and took a deep breath before walking out to face off against the older saiyan.

Goku barely had time to assume his fighting stance before Vegeta shot into the air and kicked him in the face, sending him flying backward several yards. Vegeta phased behind him and cracked him in the back of the head with a double axe handle. Goku crashed into the ground but before he could get up Vegeta dug his heels into his back, eliciting a cry of pain.

Gohan and Piccolo watched as Vegeta sprang into the air and flipped before landing in a crouch facing his rival, who was struggling to stand after only seconds of fighting. A low growl was heard as Vegeta curled his fingers into claws and launched himself at the younger saiyan and dug his nails into his flesh and tore at his skin. Ten long gashes started bleeding on Goku's chest and he yelped as Vegeta's foot swung around and connected with the side of his head. He wasn't even able to defend himself, let alone attack. He may as well have been a punching bag.

Goku started running, trying to put some distance between himself and Vegeta before continuing the fight, but Vegeta flew after him and tackled him to the ground, clawing at him as they wrestled. Goku finally thrust Vegeta off him and quickly ascended to super saiyan and powered up as high as he could go. The two blonde saiyans faced off again and this time it was Goku who went on the offensive first.

Vegeta's head snapped to the side when Goku landed a lightning fast uppercut, but the victory was short-lived as Vegeta's knee landed in his opponent's gut. Goku grabbed Vegeta's leg before he could retract it and threw him down on the ground, creating a small crater. The older saiyan growled again and shot up and waited for the fight to continue in the air.

"Is Dad even trying?" Gohan wondered aloud. His eyes were wide as he fought to keep up with the full-blooded saiyans' speed.

Piccolo was silent for a moment as he watched Goku's body rocket down to the ground. "He's putting everything he has into this. He just can't stand up against Vegeta."

With a howl of rage Vegeta dove after Goku and crushed his elbow into the fallen saiyan's ribs. But Goku swung his leg up and axe kicked his rival in the back of the neck and jumped to his feet. He was breathing hard and bleeding profusely, but the fight was exhilarating. He felt adrenaline pumping through his veins and welcomed the challenge even though it was obvious he didn't have a chance – again. He wondered how Vegeta had found so much hidden power and if he had it too, somewhere deep inside.

Goku dodged a flurry of punches aimed at his face and caught one of Vegeta's arms before throwing him into the air. Vegeta stopped himself and shot back down at his rival and phased behind him. Goku whipped around to face his opponent, swinging his arm around in a punch, but his arm was caught with … teeth? Really, really sharp teeth! Goku yelped again and tried to withdraw his arm but Vegeta held fast, his teeth ripping into the other saiyan's flesh the more he struggled.

Gohan cringed when he heard his father's screams of pain and took a step forward, wanting to help, but Piccolo's strong hand landed on his shoulder and held him back. "What the heck is Vegeta doing?" he shouted.

Piccolo shook his head. "Watch. We can't get involved."

The boy turned back to the fight just as Vegeta raised his fist to punch Goku's elbow. A sickening snap was heard as the younger warrior's elbow was completely broken. He screamed again until his voice was cut off by Vegeta's knee connecting with his diaphragm. As he doubled over he was hit again with a knee in the face and two fists in the back of his head simultaneously.

"We have to help him!" Gohan yelled as he struggled to break free from his old mentor's grasp. His father was being beaten senseless right in front of him; this wasn't a spar, it was mutilation and he couldn't stand by and watch.

"No, Gohan!" Piccolo snapped and threw the boy to the ground. The boy looked at him with pain in his eyes but he remained firm. "We can heal him after they're done. Let them fight."

Another snap was heard followed immediately by a loud scream of agony as Goku's knee was kicked so hard it broke and he fell to the ground, rolling around in pain. His mouth was wide open but no more sound came out. Vegeta looked at him with cold, merciless eyes and picked him up by the throat, nails digging into his neck. "You're supposed to fight, Kakarrot!"

Vegeta's leg arced around and landed against Goku's broken arm in a roundhouse kick. A choked gurgle sound came from the younger saiyan's constricted throat as he was dropped and launched back into the air as Vegeta's other leg rose to meet his falling body. Vegeta roared and flew after his opponent. "You're not even trying, you clown!" He phased behind Goku and elbowed him in the back of the neck. "Fight back!"

Goku groaned as he crashed into the ground again and pushed himself onto his good arm and leg. He was panting and felt his energy draining rapidly. How long had they been fighting? Two, three minutes? At the most. And he was getting pulverized. He wasn't going to give up, though. The more he fought, the more he needed it as much as Vegeta did.

He shot up into the air and raised his power higher until he was enveloped in a blinding golden aura. Even if he was going down, he wasn't going down without a fight. He shot forward and before Vegeta could retaliate swung his leg around and kicked the side of his head and grabbed his left arm. Still moving past the older saiyan, Goku yanked his arm behind him and heard it as it was dislocated and then fired a ki blast in his back, rocketing him away.

Vegeta whirled around in mid-air and started throwing a barrage of small ki blasts at Goku until he was surrounded by them on all sides. Goku immediately knew what was about to happen and that he didn't have any way out, so he threw up a ki barrier around himself as all the small blasts zeroed in on him and exploded in a flash of blinding light.

"Daddy!"

The tailless saiyan could hear his son's anguished cry but he couldn't muster enough energy to respond. He wanted to tell him that he would be ok, even if he didn't believe it, but there was no way he could get his voice to carry that far if he tried. Suddenly he was forced back into the ground as two knees landed in the small of his back and two fists started pummeling his back with furious speed and strength.

Punching turned into clawing and soon both Vegeta and Goku were coated in blood and still it didn't stop. Vegeta was digging into his rival's back with blind fury, the sounds of screaming distant as his mind seemed to separate from his body. There was blood, so much blood. He eyes glazed over and he suddenly stopped and collapsed to the side.

_"Your father is dead."_

_ "What? How?"_

_ "You might say he lost favor in my sight, little prince."_

_ Vegeta was stunned into silence. Lord Frieza admitted to killing his father, King Vegeta, despite his promise to let him live so long as he obeyed his every command. He had never stepped out of line, never failed on a mission, trained hard, and for what? The lizard had killed his father anyway. It was all for nothing. As hard as he had tried..._

_ The young Vegeta clenched his fists and bowed his head to hide the anger written clearly across his face. He was shaking with suppressed rage, burning hotter than any he'd ever felt. His breathing quickened and beads of sweat formed on his brow as he forced himself to remain composed when all he wanted to do was beat the life out of the freakish lizard. He had tried so hard… so hard…_

_ "Don't be upset, my pet, what should his death matter to you? He abandoned you!" Frieza threw his head back and cackled with glee. Not only had he rid himself of the king of the monkeys, he had jabbed the small prince's pride and deflated his overgrown ego._

_ "You said…" Vegeta hissed through clenched teeth, "You said if I did as you asked that you would not hurt him."_

_ Frieza only laughed harder. "Fool! I kill whomever I want! Your weakling of a father was unfit to serve as a king."_

_ Something inside Vegeta snapped when he heard his father being mocked. He knew his father hadn't willingly given him up. Of course he resented it anyway, but he was his _father_. One of only four people he trusted, respected, cared for. The leader of his pack. And he had failed to protect him. He exploded in fury, roaring as his ki flared to new heights and knocked Frieza's guards off their feet. Frieza only smirked, challenging him to try fighting him._

_ A crimson aura flared around the young prince and he flew at the tyrant only to be knocked to the floor. He jumped back to his feet and tried again, sending kicks, punches, and ki blasts, each of which were easily blocked. His fury grew and he started biting and clawing at the pink abomination but to no avail. He couldn't harm him in the least._

_ Frieza knocked him to the floor again and started beating him with his tail, its brutal force cracking and breaking the saiyan's ribs and crushing his lungs. His skin was split in deep gashes that bled freely and still his beating wasn't over. He was kicked, thrown into the air, slammed into the floor and walls, burned with ki attacks, cut open with ki blades._

_ With each attack his pride was battered along with his body, but he refused to give up or lose consciousness. His boiling rage fueled his body to keep getting up, keep trying to attack. His energy skyrocketed the worse he was beaten as he fed on his anger. He hadn't been able to protect his pack, but he would be damned if he didn't get vengeance. His honor, his father's honor, demanded it._

_ When Vegeta finally managed to land a blow on the lizard's pink, scaly face, he was immediately blasted away, his body tumbling through the air until he landed face first in the wall upside down. His energy left him as quickly as it had come and as it left his rage waned, his mind slipping away. He could hear the laughter and jeers of Frieza and his henchmen and felt only shame. His mouth was filled with the bitter taste of his own blood and the lizard kept beating him with a ki whip, lashing against his back again and again until the blood flowed down his body._

_ Vegeta's aggression dwindled and all he wanted was to curl up in a ball and die. He prayed to the gods that Frieza would just end his life and he could be with his father again. He had tried his best to keep him safe and to maintain his honor, but he had failed miserably. And failure was the bitterest taste of all as it mixed with shame and grief._

_ There was blood, so much blood…_

Piccolo and Gohan ran over to the saiyans and knelt down next to Goku and pushed a senzu bean into his mouth. He swallowed and a few seconds later pushed himself up to his knees, completely healed, the only signs of his battle were his torn clothes and dried blood. He looked around.

"Vegeta?" he cried when he saw the saiyan prince lying next to him, body limp as he stared unblinking at the sky, his breathing rapid and shallow. "Vegeta are you ok?"

"What happened, Dad?"

The prince was catatonic. Goku tried shaking him to get him to snap out of it but nothing worked. His eyes were unseeing, his pupils dilated despite the bright sun overhead. "What's going on, Vegeta?" Goku asked anxiously. He didn't know what was going on; one minute Vegeta was tearing him apart, literally, and the next he was immobile.

Gohan knelt on the other side of Vegeta and leaned down to listen to the prince's heartbeat. It was slow, unnaturally slow. He frowned and tried shaking him as his father had done a moment ago. "Vegeta?"

"Give him a senzu bean," Piccolo suggested. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but if it was anything physical, the bean would return him to normal. He watched as Gohan put a bean in Vegeta's mouth, but it was not swallowed. It just lay in his mouth.

Goku put his hand on Vegeta's forehead and drew it back with a frown. "He's cold."

"I'm going to take him to Capsule Corp. Maybe Bulma will know what to do." Goku put two fingers on his forehead and rested his other hand on the prince's chest. "You guys coming?"

Piccolo put his hand on Goku's shoulder while Gohan put his hand over his father's on Vegeta's chest. A second later they were in Bulma's office with Vegeta laid out on the floor with the rest huddled around him. They heard a shriek and papers flying through the air.

_A/N: Another mostly one-sided fight with Goku and Vegeta, I know. Don't hate me! This isn't how it's always going to be. Goku's power has grown a lot since they found on the other planet, but Vegeta's fighting with the same power as before, except as a super saiyan, so it's not surprising he's still able to overpower Goku. Besides, he got a few cheap shots in at the beginning before Goku ascended to super saiyan. And he's running on built up frustration which seems to make him stronger. Their rivalry is far from being over. Yay!_

_Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews! They make me very happy. Oh, and just to let you know, the story is officially halfway done as of now. Hope you've enjoyed the first half because the wild ride gets even wilder in the second half. Mwahaha._

_Song: "Getting Away with Murder" by Papa Roach_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

_Don't you know  
This has me more than bleeding  
Don't you know  
I cannot fight this feeling  
Don't you go  
Can you not hear me screaming no, no_

"Yikes!" Bulma shrieked, her hand flying out and knocking over the stack of papers she had been reaching for on her desk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Goku, Gohan, and Piccolo looked around at their surroundings. This wasn't where they had expected to be. This definitely wasn't the compound. "Where are we?" Goku asked, scratching the back of his head.

"You're in my office at the headquarters building in West City," she told him, hand over her racing heart as she tried to calm herself down. She would never get used to her friend popping in and out of existence around her. He needed to learn how to give warning that he was on his way or something.

Goku nodded and turned back to the other saiyan and gestured for her to come over. She hadn't been able to see Vegeta yet since he was on the floor in front of her large desk and was out of view. "We need your help. Something's wrong with Vegeta."

"Vegeta?" she squeaked, immediately leaping out of her chair and running around the desk to see. There he was, lying perfectly still staring up at the ceiling. Something was definitely off about him. "What happened?"

Piccolo answered for the others, "We don't know. He and Goku were sparring and all of a sudden he collapsed and he's been like this since then."

"Oh my Kami," she mumbled as she felt his cold forehead and heard his erratic breathing. "We need to get him to the med floor, pronto." She stood up and ran to the elevator and pushed the down arrow.

When Goku went to lift Vegeta, the older saiyan lashed out, striking Goku across the face with a sloppy punch. "Don't touch me, Nappa!" As soon as he said that he dropped back into his catatonic stupor, dead to the world. The others looked at him strangely.

"Nappa?"

No one could answer Goku's implied question. They were as stunned as he was at Vegeta's bizarre outburst. He shrugged and lifted the prince into his arms and ran over to the elevator where the others were waiting for him. Once he was inside Bulma pushed the button that would take them to the fifth floor and entered a code that would disable the elevator from stopping before it reached where she wanted it to go.

As the door opened all four conscious passengers piled out of the elevator and started running down the hall. "Hey, I need a medical doctor right away," Bulma screamed as she led them into a small room with medical equipment. "Hurry up!" she yelled as several doctors emerged from the labs where they were working to see what the commotion was.

Several doctors started running toward the room where Bulma had Vegeta laid out on the exam table and was busily hooking him up to the machines that would monitor his vitals. Her frown deepened when she saw the abnormally slow heartbeat and rapid respiration. His temperature was only 94.8, low even for a human.

"Dr. Gionelli," Bulma screeched when he came in after the troop of doctors, "Something happened to Vegeta and I don't know what's wrong…"

He held up his hand and crossed the room to look over the vitals readings. He frowned and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "By all accounts, this man shouldn't be alive." He turned to face the blue-haired heiress and raised an eyebrow.

She fidgeted under his scrutiny, being suddenly reminded that he didn't like her or her father. But he was the leading medical expert at Capsule Corp and she needed his help. "That's the problem, doctor. He shouldn't be alive, something is _obviously_ wrong, and I need you to help him _immediately!_"

"You need to tell me what happened," he said as he turned around and started washing his hands in the sink.

Bulma looked to Goku and gave him an expectant look. He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you see me and 'Geta were fighting and he was beating me up really bad when all of a sudden he just stopped and fell over and he's been like this since."

The old doctor turned to face the younger saiyan and furrowed his brows. "You say you were fighting? And getting beaten up? I know a lie when I hear it, boy. There isn't a mark on you." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the truth.

"But it's true, honest!" Goku insisted, waving his arms for emphasis. "He was tearing me apart and he just… this happened!"

Bulma cut in before Dr. Gionelli could argue. "Believe him, doctor. He's telling the truth. And it doesn't matter anyway, Vegeta might be dying. So do your job!"

Dr. Gionelli huffed and grabbed a flashlight from a drawer and shined it in Vegeta's eyes. His pupils failed to contract and he didn't so much as blink. There was a faraway look in his eyes that gave him a haunting appearance. By now the other doctors were examining the vitals and discussing the absurdity of them amongst themselves, not being able to come up with any conclusions about how they were physically possible and what they should do about it.

"Did he get hit in the head?" Dr. Gionelli asked as he stuck a thermometer in the saiyan's mouth, holding his slack jaw shut.

Goku scratched his head as he thought about that. "Not any harder than usual. I only managed to get a couple decent hits in. Oh, that reminds me, his left shoulder is dislocated."

The doctor took the thermometer out of the saiyan's mouth and checked it while another one of the doctors went to the saiyan's side and popped his shoulder back into place with practiced precision. The temperature matched with the monitor that reported 94.8. He shook his head in disbelief and muttered to himself about medical conundrums. "He shows several symptoms of being in shock."

Bulma was wracking her brain for any ideas on what might be wrong with Vegeta. He had been fine one second and in shock the next. She looked at his face closely and noticed the familiar empty, distant look in his eyes. When had she seen that before? Something clicked. "He's having a flashback."

Everyone else in the room turned to look at her. What did she mean he was having a flashback? What difference would that make?

"A flashback," she muttered and stepped closer to the saiyan. "Something that happened in the fight must have reminded him of some traumatic event in the past and his brain forgot his body was in the present. So his body's acting according to what's going on in his memory."

"Impossible," Dr. Gionelli stated. "That doesn't happen."

Bulma shot him an indignant glare before turning back to Vegeta. "Hey, 'Geta, it's ok. You're not with Frieza anymore," she said, taking a stab in the dark at what he was reliving. "Remember me, Bulma? You live with me at Capsule Corp, on Earth," she whispered in his ear. There was a small flame of his usual fire in his eyes but he gave no indication that he had heard or understood her.

Goku took a step closer and leaned toward Vegeta. Suddenly his hand shot up and gripped the younger saiyan's throat. The doctors yelped and shrank back in surprise while Piccolo and Gohan tried to pry his hand off, Goku gasped for air, and Bulma continued cooing in the strange patient's ear. The heart monitor showed that his heart rate had increased slightly.

"Vegeta, you're hurting Goku. Kakarrot. You need to let him go, he isn't going to hurt you. He's not Nappa and he's not going to touch you if you don't want him to." Bulma started stroking his golden hair and leaned closer to him so he could smell her scent. Maybe that would wake him from his stupor. She smiled when she heard him inhale deeply and the heart monitor started blipping faster. "Come on, Vegeta, you're safe here." She kissed his forehead and rubbed her cheek against his.

Vegeta's hand slackened enough for Piccolo and Gohan to safely pull Goku away. The doctors were watching in stunned silence, gaping like fish out of water as the heiress seemed to be talking the strange man out of shock. His breathing was becoming more regular and color was returning to his dark features.

"He… killed him," he rasped, still staring distantly at the ceiling. Everyone in the room leaned in closer to hear what he was murmuring. "I failed. To save him. Father…" He closed his eyes and didn't open them back up.

Bulma frowned and nuzzled into his neck. "It's ok, Vegeta, it's over. It happened a long time ago."

"He should have…" his voice trailed off before continuing in a whisper, "should have killed me. There was blood…so much blood."

Bulma's eyes widened as she reached the conclusion as to why his body was going into shock because of a flashback he was having. There was blood. Lots of blood. And it was his. His body was going into shock from blood loss. She looked up at the others in the room and sighed. "I know, 'Geta. He almost beat you to death. But you survived and you're here now."

"I wanted him to kill me too," Vegeta croaked through his dry throat, "so I could be with my father again. He didn't abandon me, he tried to get me back." He swallowed and opened his eyes again. They looked a little clearer now.

"It's ok, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, "He cared about you." She nipped his nose and rested her head on his chest.

A minute later Vegeta blinked a few times as if waking up from a deep sleep. The monitors behind him showed his body returning to normal as his heart rate leveled off, his breathing became more relaxed, and his temperature rose – too high for the doctors to believe – to its normal level. "Woman?"

"I'm here."

His arm reached up shakily and he laid his hand on her head, feeling to make sure she was real. His fingers trailed through her aqua tresses and he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He wrapped his arm around her waist and effortlessly pulled her on top of him so her head was still resting on his chest and held her tight.

"What happened, Vegeta?" she asked softly.

He knew the double meaning of her question. What had happened when he was fighting Kakarrot and what had happened long, long ago. "I was beating the hell out of Kakarrot. His blood… smelled similar to my own. Felt like my own pouring down my body…"

The only sound for a few minutes was the constant beeping of the heart monitor. No one in the room knew what to say. The doctors because they had no idea what was going on and the warriors because they were wondering how that had affected him so strongly.

"I was angry. Furious. It was a pent up feeling of failure after not being able to protect my pack. I let it loose, and there was blood." Now Bulma wasn't sure if he was talking about the past or the present. His vague explanation was confusing her and she wanted clarification but didn't know how to get it.

"What happened?" Bulma wished she hadn't asked when she saw pain shoot through his ebony orbs. Then she felt something warm and furry wrap around her wrist. What did that mean?

"I tried to kill Frieza. I was only seven years old," he said slowly, not sure he wanted to let his secret out. "He told me he killed my father even though I had obeyed him completely. I was furious, ashamed that I hadn't been able to protect my father. He…he beat me within an inch of my life. I was nearly dead from blood loss by the time Nappa got me to the medical ward."

Bulma felt the grip on her wrist tighten, giving her an idea of what he wanted: Comfort. Or security. She pushed herself up to rest on her elbows and leaned forward to nip his nose again, as he had always done when he was comforting her. The tip of his tail flicked a little, tickling her wrist. "But you didn't want Nappa to take you?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, I _wanted_ to die. My life was a hell and I wanted to escape."

Goku, Piccolo, and Gohan all exchanged disbelieving glances. None of them could believe that Vegeta had ever considered death as a way out of slavery. He didn't strike them as the suicidal type or someone who would give up on fighting his way out of his predicament. He talked about having always wanted to kill Frieza and that was what kept him alive. Maybe that was more true than they had thought. He couldn't die before Frieza. But that didn't mean he hadn't considered death as an escape route.

The doctors in the room were starting to mutter about the strange tale they were hearing. What seven year-old boy would try to kill someone? Who would have killed his father? What in the world was he talking about? And was that a real tail?

But Bulma and Vegeta had forgotten entirely about everyone else in the room; they were each busy getting lost in the other's eyes. Bulma felt the tip of his tail still tickling her wrist and leaned forward again. This time her mouth rested against his as she tenderly brushed her lips against his in a whisper of a kiss. Neither took their eyes off the other's and she pulled back as if it hadn't happened.

Vegeta lifted his head to inhale her scent as he wrapped both arms tightly around her waist. The meaning of her gesture had not been lost on him despite his unfamiliarity with human customs. She was _possibly_ interested in him but valued the relationship they had too much to push anything more. She wanted to show how much she cared for him in her own way, and he had accepted it.

"You scared me, you big jerk," she whispered. "I'm tired of rushing you to get medical attention."

He chuckled, the light laughter shaking her on top of him. "Then don't worry about me so much, Woman." He smirked at her and his tail unwrapped from her wrist.

Bulma sat up straddling him and looked around the room. She blushed when she saw all the others standing around watching her and the saiyan. It hadn't even occurred to her that they might stick around after Vegeta woke up and came back to normal. But there they were. They might as well have had a bowl of popcorn being passed around the way they were watching them like they might a soap opera.

"Alright, show's over guys. Get back to work," she barked at the doctors. They jumped to attention and hurried out of the room. She knew there was going to be a lot of gossip floating around the building by the end of the day.

"That goes for you too," she said to the warriors standing at her side. Goku just grinned and put his fingers on his forehead before blinking out of sight along with Piccolo and Gohan.

Vegeta sat up with her on his lap and buried his face in her neck. He inhaled her scent deeply and held her tight against him. He was feeling much better now, but he still wanted the feeling of comfort and security she gave him just by being with him. "I will never fail to protect what is mine again," he murmured, "Never."

Vegeta only stayed with Bulma a few minutes before he was calm enough to return to the compound. He hadn't really gotten to finish his spar with the younger saiyan, but he wasn't feeling as much aggression anymore so he was content to finish it another day. Bulma returned to her office with the goal of finishing early so she could get home and check up on the saiyan prince to make sure he was as good as he claimed to be. She'd seen him slip into flashbacks before, but never to the extent that his body responded to it so strongly. It scared her to think what might have happened had she not been able to bring him out of it. Would he have died? Or would he have eventually reached the point in his memory where he was treated and woken from his flashback in perfect condition? She shuddered thinking it might have been the former if he honestly _wanted _to die in that particular memory.

As soon as he returned to the compound, Vegeta headed straight for the indoor garden. He hadn't been there for a while and he needed a quiet place where he could meditate. His flashback brought with it a flood of unpleasant memories that he needed to gain control of before they overwhelmed him and caused him to make a fool of himself again. He didn't know at this point how many times he had shown such weakness in front of the little woman, but he was determined not to make a habit of it. Dredging up memories was not on his list of favorite things, and he was ready to put them away on the dusty shelves they had fallen off of. At least, that was the mental picture he formed of his problem.

Inside the garden, he hopped up to a low branch and swung through the trees until he reached his small clearing. The same place where he had played with the woman, nearly lost his mind when he felt emptiness where his race was supposed to be, slept, and meditated. It was a place where he liked spending his time if he wasn't busy training, which wasn't very often. He sat down and focused himself on the feeling of ki running through his body. He could feel it coursing through his veins, feeding into his muscles, providing the fuel necessary for life. It felt warm and soothing, the reason why he chose that to focus on when he was filled with the cold, bitter feeling of regret and failure.

He didn't know how long he had been meditating when he opened his eyes. The forest was darker than before, so it must have been at least a couple hours since the sun was setting. He yawned and laid back in the soft grass. His tail twitched slowly at his side as he gazed up at the sky above. There wasn't much to see. No clouds, no stars, no moon, nothing. Just deepening indigo with a tinge of orange as the city's lights came on.

The saiyan rolled onto his stomach and crossed his arms under his chin. He managed to regain control of his thoughts, successfully bottling up his memories and emotions until all he could feel was… nothing. Nothingness was what he knew well. He repressed any feelings other than anger for so much of his life that he really had no idea what to do with anything else anymore. He knew that his success meant failure in living as a saiyan of old, but at the moment he wasn't going to worry about it. He felt humiliated when he finally got a hold of himself after his little flashback that afternoon. Not only had the woman seen him, but also Kakarrot, his whelp, and the Namek. And he'd gone and told them everything! Had he no pride? It was foolish to let anyone know his secrets. They could potentially be used against him in the future. That was why he was so bent on keeping them hidden.

He snorted at that thought. 'As if those fools would ever think of using my own mind against me. They aren't sadistic bastards like the lizard was.' Despite his rationalization, he couldn't change old habits that had formed over the years. Trust was something he hadn't learned and wasn't sure he ever would.

Since he didn't know what time it was and no one knew he'd gone to the indoor garden, he had no idea if dinner was ready yet. He stood up and stretched with a low growl. He was a little sore from his fight with the third-class saiyan, but nothing too bad. He leaped into the trees and jumped from branch to branch until he reached the edge of the forest. He stepped off the branch he was on and landed softly on the ground below. He strolled over to the doors and walked out and through the halls to the kitchen.

In the kitchen he found Mrs. Brief setting the table, the blue-haired woman sitting at the table talking on her cell phone, and Dr. Brief reading the evening paper while he sipped a cup of tea. It looked like he was just in time for dinner. He sat down at the table and waited for the food to be set out before he started helping himself.

"Hey, 'Geta, how're you feeling?" Bulma asked when she finished her call.

He shrugged. "Fine."

She studied his expression carefully for a few moments before she gave up. He wasn't going to give anything away if he wasn't telling the whole truth. 'It would be nice to be able to see what's going on in that head of his sometimes,' she mused. She was reminded of her plotting that morning to get him to open up to her more. She had nearly forgotten her plan after that afternoon. She smirked as she ate her dinner, thinking she was going to find out more about her saiyan houseguest if it killed her.

Late that night Bulma was up prowling the halls of the compound as she anxiously thought over and over again about her plan to sneak under Vegeta's radar to find out more about him. It had been quite unexpected that he had opened up to her about something incredibly intimate earlier; she was sure he wasn't quite in his right mind when he told her about the incident with Frieza after he was informed of his father's death, so she knew that it was actually possible to extrapolate some information from the carefully guarded prince from time to time.

Even though she had learned something new – and terrible – about the prince, she was hungry for more. She shuddered at the thought of a seven year-old boy contemplating murder, trying to act on those thoughts, being beaten to near death, losing a father, and wanting to die. That was more than any adult she knew could bear, and yet he had done it as a child. And that was why she wanted to know more: he amazed her in so many ways it was impossible not to be curious about him.

Bulma had been pacing the hall on the second floor for nearly ten minutes and was sure that she was going to need to buy a new carpet if she kept it up. Her hands were clenching and unclenching at her sides and her mind was buzzing with second thoughts about trying to invade his privacy. But her curiosity could not be denied. The worst that could happen would be him throwing her out of his room… or blasting her into another dimension, but she knew that he would never do anything to hurt her. She took a deep breath to steel her resolve and came to a stop in front of his bedroom door.

Before she could even knock, she was startled to hear his tired, gruff voice from inside. "Damnit, just come in already, Woman."

She cracked the door open and peered inside, trying to ignore the fight or flight response that was favoring flight at the moment. She was nervous and fidgety but she was determined to go through with her plan. Heck, it might not even lead to anything, but it was worth a shot. "How did you know I was there?" she asked as she tentatively stepped into his room.

The darkness was eerie with the faint starlight shimmering through the curtains as they billowed in the breeze. He had taken to leaving his balcony doors open every night as the weather had cooled and the curtains cast roaming shadows on the opposite wall and floor. The bed, still torn apart, was unoccupied, which added a flavor of desertedness to the room. Bathroom and closet doors were open, leaving gaping dark holes in the wall. She figured he did not feel comfortable with closed doors in his sleeping quarters where an enemy could stay concealed, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"The floorboards were creaking with each step you took, back and forth incessantly while I was trying to sleep. Now that that mystery is solved, would you care to tell me _why_ you've been pacing like a cub before its first kill outside of my door?" There was the rustle of blankets as he turned onto his back in his nest on the floor.

Bulma inched around the bed to where she could see the mass of bedding with a saiyan-shaped lump in the middle. There was a flame of upswept blonde hair poking out from under the blanket but that was all she could see of him. She had to suppress a giggle when she saw it. He was like a child hiding under the covers to avoid having to get up to go to school.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was keeping you awake. I just couldn't sleep, and I wondered if you were still awake," she fibbed. She was hoping he couldn't hear the deception in her voice.

"What do you want, Woman?" Rats. He hadn't fallen for it.

She sighed and slapped her arms against her sides. "Ok, fine. What I want is to stay with you tonight."

A hand reached out from under the covers and yanked them down so he could see the blue-haired woman standing between him and the bed, staring down at him with those pools of perfect blue waters. He groaned and pulled the covers up over his head again. "I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. Go to your own room, Woman."

"Oh come on, are you just afraid you won't be able to control yourself if I sleep with you?" she quipped. Attacking his ego might make him willing to let her stay with him.

She heard a scoff and could practically feel him rolling his eyes at her. "That is the least of my concerns, Woman. I prefer to sleep alone. Now remove your person from my quarters before I do it for you."

Bulma leaned against the bed and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. This definitely wasn't going as planned. She hadn't exactly expected it to run as smoothly as it did in her head, but he was just being difficult and stubborn and she wasn't about to give up. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the flame of hair. "Oh come on, Vegeta! I thought saiyan packs slept together." She heard a low growl of frustration and saw the covers move up and down where his tail was flicking in irritation.

"Yes, and pack mates also don't try deceiving one another."

She sighed and looked up at the ceiling as she searched for a comeback. So she shouldn't have tried lying her way into this, but she was afraid of rejection. What girl wouldn't be? She was asking to share a bed with a male with no sexual intent. It was an odd request, especially to make to a man who had learned early to trust no one and stay distant from all others.

"Point taken. I'm sorry I lied, ok? I didn't want you to kick me out," she told him, trying to be as candid as possible. If she was lucky he wouldn't sniff out her ulterior motive.

There was a tired sigh from under the blankets. "Why?"

"I just want to be with you," she confessed. It was a half truth, which meant it wasn't exactly a lie either.

Vegeta pulled the covers down below his eyes and he studied her with a piercing gaze before he lifted an eyebrow for a second as he accepted her answer. "One condition: You shut up and let me sleep and if you bother me I'll throw you out."

Bulma grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "You got it." She knelt down, lifted the blanket, and crawled underneath it with him. She carefully brushed his twitching tail aside so she could move closer to him and rested her head on his chest with her arm draped over him and leg entangled with his. Soon she felt his strong arm embracing her and his tail wrapped around her thigh. She smiled warmly and fell asleep to the lulling sound of his heartbeat.

She hadn't gotten what she came for, per se, but she got something much better: a night spent with the saiyan prince. His presence filled her with warmth and energy and made her feel more alive. His abrasive attitude filled a void she had in her life she had never been aware of until he left for space and took that feeling of completeness with him. She hardly entertained thoughts of ever being more than friends with him, but that was fine with her. He was, if anything, a great friend no matter what he liked to think about himself, and she was truly happy to be with him, whether or not she was learning about his secretive past.

_A/N: Aww, cute. Is this the start of a beautiful romance?..._

_Doubt it._

_Song: "Bleeding" by Prom Kings_


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

_My what a sunshine in Trinidad  
Mind if you stay? I do okay  
My what a heatwave in Trinidad  
Sunburnt a nightflight away_

Bulma woke with a start and looked around the dark room. The clock on the nightstand told her that it was only three in the morning and she wondered why she had woken up so suddenly. The room was quiet; all she could hear was the breeze blowing through the balcony doors. But then her pillow, which was actually a saiyan's chest, jerked out from under her as Vegeta huddled into a ball facing away from her and his tail, which was flailing around whacked her almost painfully. She yelped more in surprise than pain and backed away from him.

"Vegeta? Are you ok?" she asked softly as she reached a hand out to him. It was hit back by his tail's unpredictable movement and she shook the tingling sensation out of her hand.

A low, barely audible growl rumbled deep in the saiyan's chest and he threw an arm out at an invisible enemy before pulling it back in to his fetal position. Bulma was trying to figure out what was going on when what sounded like a pained groan ripped through his throat and he tightened his position to an impenetrable ball of muscle, his tail now tucked securely around his waist. One leg flew out, only missing Bulma's head by inches before it was drawn back in. That was much too close for comfort in her opinion.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to make out his words when he started speaking, but they were jumbled together in sleep, and she soon realized they were in a language she didn't know anyway. She thought it might be Intergalactic Standard, but she couldn't be sure. It was too unclear, and the way he said it was different than she'd ever heard before. It almost sounded like he was frightened and choking the words out as he begged for a reprieve from whatever imaginary torment he was enduring.

'He's having a nightmare,' she concluded once her breathing slowed. 'Is that why he didn't want me sleeping with him?' She kept watch over him as he started shaking, either from the tension in his muscles or fear. He made no further movements for several minutes before he started to gradually relax until he was once again sprawled out, the blankets kicked off and breathing slow and deep.

Bulma waited another minute before she decided it was safe to get close to him again. She snuggled up to him with her head resting on his chest and pulled the covers back over them. She again felt something furry coiling around her thigh and released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. The heartbeat drumming in her ear was faster than it had been earlier, but it slowed back to its calm, steady rate soon.

'What could be haunting you in your dreams, Vegeta? What was so bad that even months and years after, it still causes such a strong reaction?' Bulma kissed his chest and stroked his washboard abs as she fell back asleep.

Vegeta woke up with a strange feeling in his loins. He cracked his eyes open and looked down to see what the problem was. His eyes snapped open as he practically flew out of bed and willed himself to calm down in more ways than one. His face flushed a little as he glared at the blue-haired woman still resting in his nest, seemingly unaware of what she had been doing to him. "Damn woman needs to watch where she puts her hands," he muttered as he pulled a pair of black training shorts out of his drawer.

He slammed the drawer shut and continued grumbling, not bothering to take care to stay quiet so as not to wake Bulma. At that point he honestly didn't care; she was the one who invited herself into his room, she was the one whose hand roamed to an off-limits part of his body, and he wasn't a morning person and couldn't be expected to concern himself with others when he was flustered (in more ways than one). Despite his inconsiderate noise, Bulma did not wake up and so he didn't have to deal with her _too_ early in the morning. He put his cross trainers on and left the room to start his early morning training.

The irate saiyan stalked into the gravity room and set the console to 1250Gs for some light training. He lost track of time as he went through his series of kata in an almost crazed pace. He was still aggravated with his body for reacting to the woman's touch – for that was all it had been – and pushed himself harder than he did most mornings. It wasn't a pleasant start to the day, but he had woken up in a foul mood anyway, so it wasn't really ruining a good day by any means. He shook his head angrily when he again thought about what he had woken up to. That was definitely the last time he was allowing her to sleep with him if her hands were going to roam through the night. For all he knew she did it on purpose. He growled at that thought. How pitiful would it be for a weak little human female to take advantage of him in his sleep? No, it was much safer to keep her as far away as possible while he slept.

At 6:30 Bulma woke up and glanced around the room, finding herself alone. Slightly disappointed but not at all surprised, she yawned and dragged herself up off the floor and trudged into the adjoining bathroom before going to her own room to change into her jogging clothes. The sterile cleanliness of the bathroom, the lack of anything on the counter aside from a bar of hand soap, and the perfectly folded towels hanging on the rack on the door earned a disbelieving shaking of the blue-haired head. She snooped around a little more and found nothing but a bar of scentless soap and one bottle of shampoo she had bought for the saiyan in the shower. All she could find in the cabinet under the sink was extra toilet paper, an unused first aid kit, and a package of bars of soap.

'I can't believe this. He lives like a Spartan,' she thought as she pulled open the drawers next to the cabinet only to find each of them completely empty except for his toothbrush and tube of toothpaste. 'I guess he really isn't used to having more than the bare necessities.'

Bulma went back to her own room and changed into a pair of black capris and a pink long-sleeved t-shirt. She sat down on the floor to stretch before putting her running shoes on and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She looked herself over quickly in the mirror before shrugging her shoulders and going downstairs to find her jogging partner. The hum of the gravity simulator led her to the gravity room. Since the temperature had been dropping he had spent less time outside training since he preferred the heat inside. He was a desert species, after all, and worked best in sweltering environments.

"Hey, Vegeta, are you ready to go?" she yelled through the thick metal door as she banged it with the palm of her hand. She had learned long ago that using her knuckles to knock on metal was more painful than productive.

There was a grunt from inside and the sound of the simulator powering down came shortly after. Bulma leaned against the wall opposite the door as she waited for the surly prince to come out. A few seconds later the door opened and Vegeta stepped out, pulling a gray t-shirt on over his head. He had taken to wearing shirts when they went jogging since he hardly worked hard enough to raise his body temperature and the morning air could get rather chilly. Bulma's cheeks tinged pink when a stray thought entered her mind about how she kind of missed having him shirtless when he was around her. He _was_ pleasing to the eye.

Vegeta and Bulma walked out to the front gate of the compound and started jogging; their pace had increased since they started going together, mostly because of Vegeta's urging, but Bulma was able to keep up surprisingly well for increasing distances. Vegeta could tell the woman was more tired that morning than usual, but he didn't know why. Perhaps because she had gone to bed later than usual. He had no idea that her sleep had been interrupted early that morning by none other than himself. Had he known, he would have been even firmer in his resolve not to let her sleep with him again. He would consider her witnessing him having a nightmare another show of weakness in front of her, and his pride couldn't stand any more of that nonsense. Pack mate or not, he didn't trust her with knowing he suffered in his sleep nightly.

Bulma was having similar thoughts as she had to keep suppressing yawns as they jogged. She felt exhausted and knew it wasn't because of the exercise. The only explanation she could come up with her fatigue was the fact that she had been woken up at 3:00AM and hadn't gotten back to sleep for at least half an hour. It wasn't a huge chunk of time, but it had broken her out of her deep sleep and messed up her sleep cycle. It perturbed her that Vegeta showed no signs of feeling any negative effects from tossing and turning with a disturbing dream. Did he even know that he did that? Maybe it happened so often it didn't have any effect on him anymore. Curiosity struck her again as she wondered about his nightmare.

"Do you ever dream?" she asked, thinking it would be best to take an indirect approach.

The saiyan cast her a suspicious sidelong glance and grunted. He didn't care if she could figure out if that was a yes or a no, he didn't want to answer her question.

Bulma took it as a yes. "What kinds of things do you dream about, then?"

"Why would you care?"

"I'm curious. I want to know if you dream like humans dream."

Vegeta snorted and sped up a little. If she wouldn't shut up on her own maybe he could tire her out enough that she would be gasping for breath instead of blabbering incessantly. He knew there was more to her questions than she was letting on and he wasn't comfortable with it since he had an idea as to where she was going with them. Honestly he would prefer her taking a more direct approach when she had a question. That way he could tell her he didn't want to answer and leave it at that. He was more irritated with her curiosity when she tried to pull information out of him without him being aware of it. As if he would ever fall for such foolish mind games. It was insulting.

"I do not 'dream' in the way anyone else does," he replied shortly. The irritation in his voice was not veiled, and Bulma knew she should back off a little. She cursed how he was always able to tell when she was trying to pull something out of him.

"Oh, you mean you don't dream about the craziest things your imagination could come up with?" she asked, forcing herself to sound casual. If she could make him think the conversation was more about herself than him then perhaps he would betray some more about himself. "Like, having to give a speech to a huge audience and you're naked, or being in a car chase because you have a potted plant these bad guys really want or something?"

She saw a hint of a snarl as he listened to her rambling. Had she gone and struck a nerve or something? She hoped not. She was just wondering about his dream, for Kami's sake. He didn't have to get all defensive about it. She sighed when it seemed he wasn't going to answer her and took in her surroundings in an attempt to get her mind off the saiyan.

"'Imagination,' as you call it, has no part in my dreams." Bulma's head whipped around to face the saiyan at her side, but his face was back to its stoic façade.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Vegeta picked up the pace a bit more until she was struggling to keep up with him. She was running and he was still going at what he considered a leisurely pace. He ignored her demands for him to slow down and refused to pay attention to her frustrated growls and heavy breathing. It had only been five miles but she wouldn't last much longer at this rate. After another block she was coming to a stop but he kept going. He could hear her calling after him but he wasn't slowing down or stopping for her. He needed to get away.

"Damnit," she muttered as she mentally kicked herself. "I couldn't have just dropped it." She shook her head and leaned against a streetlamp. The sky was overcast with gray clouds and she knew it was going to rain later. The smell of rain wasn't there yet, but the cool wind and dreariness were unmistakable forerunners of a good downpour. It was going to be a lousy day. She could tell that already.

Bulma watched as the saiyan disappeared around a corner and groaned. She was going to have to go back to the compound alone, too tired to resume her jog after the little sprint he put her through. After exhaling a deep breath she pushed herself to start her lonely walk back home. At least she hadn't gone too far.

Breakfast came and went and Vegeta never showed up even though Mrs. Brief had made him blueberry pancakes, fried eggs, and sausage. She fretted over his absence at the breakfast table since it was generally the only meal he would never miss. Bulma knew why he was gone; she had driven him off again when she tried to force him to reveal something to her he would rather keep to himself. She didn't understand why it would be so hard for him to just tell her what kinds of things he dreamt about, or at least _how_ he dreamed. What did he mean they didn't involve his imagination? Even dreams about memories were warped at least partially. She helped her mother put the leftovers away so the saiyan could eat when he decided to come back from his run in the city and then went down to her lab to work.

At lunch, Vegeta was still gone. Mrs. Brief told her that he hadn't come in yet even though it was storming outside. The thunder was loud enough to rattle the windows and the rain was coming down in waves. Surely he wouldn't stay out in weather like that? Bulma began to worry a little bit when she finally retreated back to her lab after a lunch break lasting longer than an hour. She looked out the window but he was nowhere in sight. It was silly to think he would be affected by the weather, but she didn't like him leaving for long with no explanation.

When Vegeta still hadn't shown up after dinner, Bulma was ready to burst into tears with worry and regret. The last time she really upset Vegeta and he disappeared, he had gone off into space and hadn't come back for almost a year. Desperate, she called Goku to ask if he had seen the prince, but he had no helpful information aside from being able to tell her that he was still somewhere on the planet. Only slightly comforted, she hung up the phone and collapsed into a chair in the kitchen. Where had he gone? When would he be back? What was he doing?

Vegeta tore his shirt into strips and wrapped them tightly around his thigh to stop the bleeding. He smirked when he finished and looked at his prey lying next to him on a lonely beach in southern Africa. He shook the salty water out of his hair and formed a ki blade in his hand and cut open the large bull shark, spilling out its innards as he gutted it. He hadn't been looking for a fight, but when he went swimming off the coast the shark dragged him into one. His leg burned as he rested his weight on it, but he had suffered through worse and ignored it.

He scaled the shark and started tearing into its flesh, ravenously ripping its meat from its bones and barely chewing as he stuffed more shark into his mouth. He was hungry after spending the whole morning training, and it didn't help that he hadn't had breakfast at the compound beforehand. Hence, he was more grateful than aggravated with the shark for attacking him when he went for a swim. It gave him a bit of a fight and it was more than large enough to satisfy his growing hunger.

The 450 pound shark was mostly devoured by the end of the day. Vegeta, when he was famished, did not care about the flavor or sanitation of his meals so it did not bother him that he ate raw shark that had been in the hot sun for hours. It wasn't as though he could get sick anyway, he was saiyan. And anyway, it was readily available food for him when he got hungry intermittently through the afternoon. He had the gravity on his micro-gravity simulator turned up to 1500Gs and he was putting himself through a strenuous workout at a frenzied pace in the hot sun. He was set on getting as much accomplished in his training in one day as he could without the distraction of the blue-haired woman or her airhead mother. He would take Mrs. Brief's cooking any day over a stinking raw shark, but he wasn't going to complain. Raw meat was a good boost for strength in his diet, and it had been too long since he'd had any.

When the sky darkened into night, Vegeta again swam out into the ocean, taking a deep breath as he submerged himself. He would not be caught unaware by another aquatic predator now that he knew what kinds of creatures dwelled in the waters. He swam deeper and headed east, far away from land. He could stay underwater for half an hour at a time, which meant he could swim deeper and find the currents that would move him along faster. His 'training' to be able to hold his breath that long hadn't been too enjoyable, but he had to admit he was thankful for its benefits from time to time.

He had been swimming for four hours when he finally pulled himself up on land again. He shook the water from his hair and laid out on the white sand to rest. He had just crossed the Indian Ocean and found himself on an island in Indonesia. Even for a super saiyan that was a long swim and his limbs were aching with the effort since he had refrained from using much ki to give him the strength to keep going. Once he had recovered well enough he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. With the ocean behind him he levitated a hundred feet into the air and saw a thick forest ahead a few miles. Surely there would be something to eat there. He smirked and flew forward and landed in a heavily forested area and sniffed the air. There was sweet-smelling fruit nearby.

Vegeta found a tree with incredibly large fruit, as big or bigger than basketballs. They were green, bumpy, and oddly shaped. Fascinating. The fruits were on short branches close to the trunk and near the ground, so he didn't even have to climb the tree to pull one off. It was remarkably heavy, probably over thirty pounds. He held it up and sniffed it. Smelled good. He formed another ki blade and sliced it open and started digging into the fibrous flesh, relishing the sweet-sour flavor. He finished four of them before his hunger was curbed. Thus sated, he continued exploring the forest when he was assaulted with a pungent odor that caught his curiosity. He followed the odor for over half a mile before he finally found its source. The odor was almost overwhelming as he reached a tree filled with yellow, thorny fruits. He wrinkled his nose in disgust when he carefully pulled a fruit from the tree and sniffed it up close.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, turning it over in his hands gently so the thorns wouldn't pierce his skin. Aside from the smell that reminded him of stale vomit, it reminded him a great deal of the fruits he found on the forested planet he spent several months on. Like on those fruits, he saw a place where the thorny husk split and dug a finger in to pull it open. There was pale yellow, custardy pulp inside that stunk to high heaven. Vegeta was considering throwing it as far away as he could possibly get it, but he was curious enough to taste it. His eyes widened comically in surprise at the sweet, almond-like flavor. The taste was nothing like the scent; it was good, addictive, even. He quickly consumed all the pulp and started another fruit. Before long he had eaten over a dozen of the strange fruit.

'I should go back to the compound soon. If I know that woman, she'll be freaking out that I'm not there and will call that fool Kakarrot to hunt me down and piss me off.' Vegeta grumbled an indiscernible string of curses relating to foolish humans and being able to take care of himself as he took off into the sky headed north. He wasn't thrilled about returning to the compound, instead preferring the idea of being alone for a few days, but the last thing he wanted was the woman to sic her idiot bloodhound on him.

Bulma was near hysterics when, by the time she was getting ready for bed, the saiyan had still not returned to Capsule Corp. She finished brushing her teeth and brushed her hair and went out to her balcony. She leaned her elbows on the rail and looked out over the dimly glowing city and almost envied the prince for being able to take off on a whim and go anywhere in the world – or off the world – without a second thought. She didn't have the time to spare and her responsibilities held her there. When she was younger she would go on long adventures with her friends and travel the globe before she was even a legal adult, but now she had become tied down and that bothered her.

'Maybe I'll have to take an extended vacation sometime,' she thought wistfully. 'I think I deserve it. I work hard enough.' She was about to turn around and go back inside when a tiny point of yellow light on the horizon caught her eye. She squinted to see it better and broke out into a relieved smile when the light quickly grew until she could make out the godly form of the saiyan prince rapidly approaching.

"Vegeta, hey!" she yelled when he was close enough to hear. He arced down and landed on the rail of the balcony in front of the blue-haired woman and crossed his arms over his chest. The look he gave her told her that he was still a bit mad at her for their conversation that morning, but she didn't care. "Where have you been?"

Vegeta sneered. "Are you this nosey with everyone's business or just mine?"

"Kami, Vegeta!" she snapped, "What's your problem? I was worried about you all day when you didn't even come back for meals and you have to go and be a jerk! And what the hell happened to your leg?"

"It does not concern you, Woman. And I suggest not worrying about me. Nothing on this pathetic little mudball could harm me," Vegeta growled. He did not take well to being doted over and that was exactly what she was doing. Hell, she never left him alone and constantly fussed over his whereabouts and well-being. It was crowding him and he needed his space.

Bulma put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "It looks like _something_ did." She pointed to his bloody, bandaged leg for emphasis.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's a scratch."

"Let. Me. See. It," she ordered in a low voice. She was not about to let him just walk off and pretend nothing was wrong when obviously something was. It didn't matter if he had suffered worse, he was suffering from that _now_ when he was under _her_ roof and she was going to take care of him.

Vegeta hopped down to the balcony and pulled her close by her shoulders so their noses were almost touching. "I don't think so, Woman. You nor anyone else is going to order me around. Leave me alone and stop trying to pry into my life."

Bulma nearly gagged. "Oh my Kami, your breath stinks! Like old gym socks with rotting onions and dead fish." She moved away from him and covered her nose with her hand.

He chuckled and exhaled in her face, deliberately giving her a whiff of durian and old shark. She moved away again and gasped for fresh air. His breath was absolutely _putrid_.

"So that's all it takes to get you to stay away from me. I should have eaten that fruit sooner," he mused as he laughed again and jumped to his own balcony and went into his room. He walked to his bathroom and unwrapped his leg, pulled his shoes and shorts off, and got into the shower to clean up. He was covered in crusty salt, sweat, sand, and blood, but it was all flushed away by the hot water and disappeared down the drain. He washed his thick hair and tail and turned the shower off before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his hips.

Thus cleaned, he pulled his toothbrush and toothpaste out of the drawer and brushed his teeth for a few minutes, trying to thoroughly eradicate the stench the durian fruit had left in his mouth, though he wanted the sweet flavor to linger. He spat the frothy paste into the sink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When he opened the bathroom door he growled and glanced around the dark room, his eyes coming to rest on the silhouette of the blue-haired woman leaning against the unused bed.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled.

Bulma jumped a little when he broke her out of her thoughts. "You know why. I'm going to take care of your leg, Vegeta, whether you like it or not."

"No, you are going to take your ass back to your own quarters where you will stay for the night." He wasn't in the mood for her pushy, overbearing attitude. It was what had pushed him away for the day in the first place and as soon as he returned it was in his face again. There was no getting away from the crazy woman except by bending to her will, but he was too stubborn and proud to do that this time. Being pack mates didn't mean he was going to tell her everything about himself all the time. It didn't even mean he had to be friendly to her all the time, and right now he was definitely taking advantage of that fact. He was quite fed up with her.

"Just let me see it you jerk, then I'll leave!"

Rather than answering with words, Vegeta stalked over to the bed, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and marched her out of the room, ignoring her angry protests, weak kicks, and flailing arms. He shoved her out the door and slammed it closed before she could turn around and invite herself back in. He turned the lock, which he had not used since his first few weeks staying there, and went back to the bathroom to take care of his leg himself.

'Foolish woman,' he thought. 'Does she think I haven't had worse injuries than this on the battlefield? I know how to take care of myself!' He smeared an antibacterial ointment on the bite on his leg. It was a nasty injury, a deep, unclean cut. He shrugged, knowing it would heal soon anyway, then slapped a piece of sterile gauze over it. Maybe having a first aid kit in his bathroom wasn't such a stupid idea after all. It gave him an excuse to get away from her when he had need of minor medical care.

Bulma pounded on his door for a full five minutes before she finally gave up. She sighed and grumbled under her breath as she made her way back to her own room. The obstinate saiyan apparently needed time to cool off so all she could do was give him his space. It frustrated her to no end, especially knowing he was injured, but there was nothing she could do. She could scream and yell and throw a royal tantrum, but once Vegeta's mind was made up there was no changing it. And right now he had his mind made up to push her away.

_A/N: This is probably the last of the daily updates for a while. The next chapter needs a lot of work before it's ready to be posted, so bear with me. But if you keep reviewing I'll keep trying my hardest to get chapters up as fast as possible!_

_Song: "Trinidad" by Edguy_


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

_Don't stay  
Forget our memories  
Forget our possibilities  
Take all your faithlessness with you  
Just give me myself back and  
Don't stay_

It was November before Bulma started seeing Vegeta regularly again. For almost a whole month he refused to go jogging with her in the mornings, skipped meals, took indirect routes through the compound to purposely avoid her path, and spent several days away from the city. When they passed he would give her the cold shoulder and when she tried to talk to him all he would do was grunt in reply, if even that. She was becoming rather exasperated with his avoidant behavior and considered seeking him out, but he would inevitably sense her ki moving toward him and leave wherever he was.

Then one day he appeared at the breakfast table and the meal ran as smoothly as if he had not been consistently absent for weeks. He wolfed down his food and ignored the chatter of the Briefs just as he always had. Bulma noticed that he was back to black hair and eyes and a brown tail. Apparently he was training without ascending for a while, not that she minded. While he was good-looking as a blonde, she much preferred his dark coloring. Not that it mattered which appearance she preferred since he was about as scarce as when he was out in space.

She kept her eyes glued to him all through the meal but he never once glanced her way. She didn't know if it was because he didn't want to see her or acknowledge her presence or if he was really that focused on his food that he couldn't spare a glance at anyone or anything else. Both explanations seemed plausible, given his history, so she had a hard time coming up with a definite conclusion. She really hoped that the latter was true because she was actually missing him very much, more than she thought was possible when he was so physically near.

Vegeta finished what must have been his fifteenth bowl of oatmeal and downed a tall glass of milk. After he wiped his mouth he fixed eyes on the blue-haired woman sitting across from him. His dark eyes captured hers and she once again felt lost in their inky depths. But he was keeping his emotions carefully guarded and she couldn't find any trace of them in his eyes, which disappointed her. She wanted some idea as to how he was feeling, what he was thinking, anything. It had been so long since she had seen him it was driving her crazy. She may as well have been living with a ghost.

Her gaze wavered under the steady, calculating scrutiny and she found herself staring into the black cup of coffee she was holding between her hands on the table. The blackness of the coffee, she thought, was so dim compared to his fiery obsidian orbs. They were darker than the vacuum of space but burned brighter than the hottest stars.

"I will not be training today," he announced to the small family, but Bulma felt as though he was solely telling her. Her heart skipped a beat and she dared herself to raise her eyes to meet his again. They were still burning into her soul and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

"Does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?" she ventured to ask quietly.

Vegeta gave her an amused smirk and shook his head. Why she thought everything was always about her was beyond him. It was merely coincidence that he 'left' her after a little personality clashing. His avoidance really had nothing to do with that at all. He had not seen her in a long time because he had been training until he could barely stand, he was pushing himself farther beyond his limits, taking fewer breaks, eating less, and hardly sleeping. He rarely ventured out of the gravity room and when he did it was to bandage himself up so he had avoided contact with anyone for the sake of his pride. He didn't need the weak humans knowing he was pushing himself too hard. The most troubling part was that he had reached a plateau in his training, no longer making any headway at all, and that was why he had decided to take a day off. He knew the benefits of rest and finally gave in to his body's demands for it.

"It has nothing to do with you, Woman," he drawled as he pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He gave her a wolfish grin and left the kitchen, drinking in the scent of disappointment heavy in the air.

Bulma's face dropped and she sipped her coffee. "I guess he is," she muttered bitterly.

"He is what, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked as she started clearing the saiyan's dishes away.

"Nothing. Never mind." Bulma didn't feel like trying to explain why Vegeta was still upset with her after a whole month. She didn't honestly know how he could hold a grudge over something so trivial anyway.

Later that day Bulma found Vegeta in the recreation room standing in front of the pool table. He was holding the cue stick at his side and his tail occasionally twitched behind him, but she could tell he wasn't thinking about the game he had been playing. She walked around so she could see his face and saw that he was deep in thought, a crease of concentration evident on his brow. He didn't even seem to notice when she came over to him and touched his arm.

His skin felt hot under her touch and she felt his warmth spreading through her body from the light contact. She saw that he had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants that were too big, judging by the way they hung low on his hips, only held in place by his tail that was poking through the back, and a black undershirt.

The cool touch on his arm shook him from his reverie and he turned cold eyes on the blue-haired woman. She shied away as his eyes pierced through her and rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "What do you want, Woman?" he asked as he raised his cue stick to continue the game he had started nearly an hour ago. She was relieved by the lack of anger in his tone. He seemed not at all surprised by her appearance at his side.

Bulma shrugged. "Nothing, I guess." She sat down at the table where they used to play chess and watched him play.

"Hn," he grunted and pocketed three balls with one hit.

"Do you want to play against me?" she offered casually as she inspected her perfectly manicured nails.

His eyes shot up to hers for a second before he returned his attention to the remaining balls on the table. He shrugged one shoulder and hit another ball into a pocket. Unbeknownst to her, he had actually been thinking about her before she came in. He had only seen her a few times within the past month, his only company the training bots she had built for him in the gravity room. He avoided her parents more than her, especially Mrs. Brief, and sneaked in and out of the kitchen for food for the sake of being left alone by the chatterbox blonde. He wasn't mad at her as he let her believe, mainly to save face, but rather missed her company. The intensity of his training had been the only thing keeping him from searching for her when loneliness started eating away at his concentration. He cursed his need for companionship but couldn't ignore it. Once he admitted it was a part of who he was, this need for a pack, he had slowly eased into the idea of wanting someone else around and faced the truth when he felt lonely. And right now, he was definitely in need of some time spent with his blue-haired pack mate.

Bulma took his noncommittal answer to be an affirmative so she waited for him to finish the game he was playing against himself before getting up and grabbing her cue stick from the wall while he racked the balls. He let her break and they played a quick game that ended with him winning by a long shot. They decided to play again, this time the competition being closer. Vegeta had to stop watching her play when he noticed how when she bent over the table her blouse would reveal her cleavage. He didn't know why it bothered him, but it did. He shook his head to get his thoughts back on track and out of the gutter; he was beginning to think he had isolated himself for far too long if he was getting excited over _that_. It wasn't as if he had any interest in her in any way other than a pack mate.

The game ended with Vegeta winning again by a small margin. Bulma huffed and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the table with her arms crossed over her chest, her cue stick thrown unceremoniously down on the table. Vegeta smirked at her and leaned against the table next to her. "Don't be a sore loser, Woman," he teased.

"Oh shut up. You _always_ win. It's not very fun for me."

Vegeta chuckled and nudged her with his shoulder. "You sound like a cub."

Bulma stuck her tongue out at him and he snapped at it. She was finally able to see past her defeat and picked up on his playful mood. She forgot her aggravation with his wins and smiled. Maybe he wasn't mad at her any more after all. "You know it's been kind of lonely around here without you pissing me off," she told him.

"Me? Pissing _you_ off, you infernal woman?" He grinned mischievously.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Don't even try to tell me that I piss you off. You like being around me," she quipped. She grinned back at him and giggled.

"You flatter yourself."

"You just don't want to admit that I'm fun to be around."

"Yes," he replied snidely, "I simply love being around someone who screams until my ears bleed and distracts me from my training."

Bulma slapped his shoulder. "I'm not that bad!"

"Believe what you want, Woman," he said in a verbal shrug. He pushed away from the pool table and grabbed the cue sticks to put them away.

Bulma watched him appreciatively and subconsciously licked her lips. Every time she saw him after an extended leave of sorts he came back looking even better than before. She giggled again when she saw him grab the waist of his pants and pull them up only to have them sag back down. If they were much lower she'd be getting a free show. That idea didn't turn her off too much. Where he might have been devilishly handsome before, he was dead sexy now.

Or maybe that was her desire for male companionship talking.

She shook her head and smiled innocently when she met his eyes. His eyebrow was raised and she knew she had been caught in the act of mentally undressing him. Her cheeks flushed and she turned away, mortified. Had she really been gawking at him like a little schoolgirl? She smacked her forehead and almost laughed at her own audacity.

Suddenly he was in front of her with his face almost touching hers, his onyx eyes dancing with amusement and something else. Curiosity? Bulma leaned back to get some distance between them but he moved with her until she was lying back on the table and he was on top of her. "Your scent…" he mumbled as he buried his face in her neck. She felt as well as heard him sniffing but he didn't seem to find what he was looking for as he moved across her chest and down her belly. She gasped and watched him wide-eyed as he moved lower. She had never felt so naked in all her life, and her body was reacting to that feeling strongly. She groaned.

Vegeta stopped when he reached the top of her jeans and looked up at her, more confused than anything. He cocked his head at her and sniffed again, just to be sure he knew what he was smelling. He snorted the scent out of his nose and crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He was backed against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest and he wouldn't raise his eyes to look at her. Something had definitely thrown him off.

Bulma sat back up and looked over at the saiyan, wondering why he had retreated so quickly without warning. She saw that his posture was defensive and his tail was… tucked between his legs and wrapped around his own thigh? That was something she had never seen before. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. An awkward silence filled the room.

He cleared his throat and ran one hand through his hair. If he hadn't been so far away she would have seen his deep blush as he tried to ask, "Why do you… why do." He shook his head and said what he meant in a statement rather than a question. "You smell of desire."

This time Bulma's face turned three shades of red and she hid her face in her hands so she couldn't see his reaction when she answered. "I…well. Yes."

"For me." He stated it in a doubtful tone, though they both knew he was right on target.

Bulma coughed and looked out the balcony doors at the gray world beyond. The trees were bare and the sun was hiding behind a veil of clouds. She was wishing she could be anywhere but where she was, but she had kind of gotten herself into the mess. She nodded almost imperceptibly and shifted uncomfortably. She spared a glance at the saiyan and saw that he was shaking his head in disbelief and his posture still screamed of unease and embarrassment.

"Is that bad?" she squeaked out.

He shook his head, this time in answer to her question, though his expression didn't look certain. "It's just never…" he trailed off before finishing a while later. "Never happened before." He pulled his pants back up self-consciously but they immediately sagged back down. She thought she heard a colorful stream of curses in many alien languages.

"Never?"

He shook his head again. He was afraid he was starting to look like a bobble-head. He dug his toes into the carpet, suddenly finding it extremely fascinating and became absorbed in studying it with all of his attention.

"You've never you know… been with… a woman?" she asked so quietly she wasn't sure he could hear her. In a way, she didn't want to know the answer. But if he was acting so humiliated simply because she showed interest in him, he must have been more of a prude than she thought. It might have been funny had she not been so deeply embarrassed. The idea of a badass like Vegeta being a virgin was ridiculous. What kind of weird morality would that be, to accept killing as if it were nothing and yet uphold sex as a sacred act between man and wife?

He forced himself to lift his chin and look her in the eyes when he answered, "I've never taken a _willing_ female, no." He left the implications hanging in the air between them.

Bulma gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide with shock and horror. She felt bile rising in her throat and tried to swallow it back, but it kept coming back. She shook her head violently and jumped off the edge of the table and ran out of the room to the hall bathroom where she threw the lid of the toilet up and emptied her stomach of all its contents into it. Tears formed in her eyes, not just from the violent upheaval of food, but from the emotions playing through her head. Shock. Horror. Disgust. Sorrow. Disappointment.

She saw out of the corner of her eye the flame-haired saiyan standing in the hall outside the door, but she didn't turn to face him. Instead she just reached up to flush the toilet, put the lid back down, and pushed herself back up to her feet and went to the sink. She cupped her hand under the running water and raised it to her mouth and gargled to get the bitter taste out of her mouth and spat it out. She cupped her hands under the cool water again and splashed her face with it. When she dried her hands and face and looked out the door, he was gone.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she walked down the hall to her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and sank down to the floor as her tears started falling. She couldn't stop them. A sob escaped her tight chest and she gasped for breath and sobbed again. She hugged her knees to her chest and wept bitterly, ashamed of herself for being attracted to a man who had not only killed entire civilizations but had also raped only Kami knows how many women.

'What did I expect? He was a monster when he was working for Frieza! He was being shaped into what that creep was. He was a killer, a heartless, ruthless murderer, why not a rapist too? I just never imagined… Oh Kami! And I wanted to know about his past.' Bulma put her hands over her face and screamed incoherently as the painful jumble of thoughts and emotions coursed their way through her.

Vegeta heard the woman's upset cries and cringed. He clamped his hands over his ears and curled into a ball in his nest. He rocked back and forth and tried to force any thought out of his head. He wanted to be numb. Where had his mental discipline gone when he needed it most? He buried his face in his knees and hissed through his clenched teeth.

'Damnit!' he screamed at himself, 'why the hell did I tell her that? Why? She didn't need to know. She … she had a right to know. To know what kind of monster she desired. And now it's time to face the music: the song of horror and despair my transgressions have caused.'

He forced himself to lower his hands and listen to Bulma's weeping, her screams, the heartrending sobs that shook her delicate body. He nearly went mad listening to her, for once filled with shame and regret for what he had done in his past. Wishing again that he had been killed when he was a boy rather than live to obey the tyrant's commands. In that moment he learned what it meant to truly hate oneself.

Neither Bulma nor Vegeta emerged from their rooms for the rest of the afternoon. Bulma cried herself into a fitful sleep that was plagued with terrible dreams about Vegeta's past. He, on the other hand, remained awake and curled up in his nest. His mind ran over their short conversation over and over until he thought he would lose his mind. He wanted to take his words back, make it as if it never happened, but he couldn't. And he wouldn't if he could. It would be wrong to leave her in the dark about something like that, especially if she was thinking of him as more than 'friends.'

He hurt her. Badly. He was ashamed of himself not only for what happened that morning, but for his past. All of it. He hated that he lived such a life because now it was haunting her as well as him. He had to protect her from the darkness of his past, he decided. The best way to do that was to get away from her. As far away as possible.

Dinner was an uncomfortably awkward meal, at least for Bulma and Vegeta. She couldn't stand to look at him and he could smell her terror and revulsion. It sickened him until he lost his appetite completely. Both of them picked at the food on their plates, not eating, not speaking, hardly breathing. Mrs. Brief insisted Vegeta eat more, but he shook his head and set his fork down on his plate and let out a sigh that surely came from the depths of his soul. He looked at the blue-haired woman sitting across from him and winced when he saw the fear in her eyes when she met his gaze before immediately averting her eyes.

Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief seemed to sense the tension in the air and politely excused themselves, thinking the two needed to discuss something that was bothering them. They couldn't have been more wrong; the last thing Bulma wanted was to be left alone with the saiyan, and he loathed the idea of being the object of her fear and contempt, which was made painfully obvious without her parents around.

Both stood at the same time to leave the table and shifted uncomfortably when they realized they had the same intentions. Vegeta took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You had the right to know," he stated clearly, in an emotionless tone. He didn't wait for a reply before he disappeared out of the kitchen.

Bulma sank back into her chair and stared at the door. She shook her head slowly and pounded her fist on the table. "I didn't want to know!" she screamed, pouring all of her anger and grief into her words. She dropped her head into her hands and focused on breathing as another wave of emotions washed over her.

Vegeta heard her loud and clear. He flinched as her piercing scream echoed in his ears and made his head swim. He ran up to his room and changed into his old bodysuit, armor, boots, and gloves and went out to the balcony. With a final glance full of regret over his shoulder, he took off into the starless night sky, never planning on coming back.

_A/N: Surprise! I updated today even though I said I wouldn't. I'm sure you're not complaining. I originally wanted to make this chapter longer (it is kind of short) but I felt like it didn't need more. So happy Monday. :)_

_Song: "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park_


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

_Mascara bleeds a blackened tear, oh  
And I am cold, yes, I'm cold  
But not as cold as you are  
I love the sound of you walking away, you walking away_

Piccolo landed outside a small cave in a desert wilderness and waited. There was a ki signal, familiar, weak, inside. It was only a matter of time before his quarry came out to address him, of that he was sure. He sat down on the ground and crossed his legs to meditate while the inhabitant of the cave decided when to show himself.

Hours passed and still no one emerged from the dark cave. There was no sound from inside, no movement, nothing. But the ki signal was still there, barely. Piccolo opened his eyes and grumbled under his breath when he realized how much time had passed. Perhaps out waiting him was not going to work as well as he planned. His patience was worn thin from searching for days for the unbelievably low ki that hid within the cave already, and he was tired of waiting now. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Come out, Vegeta!" he shouted, "Now!"

He waited a few minutes but there was still no sound from inside. He snarled and clenched his fists. He felt like a human dealing with an insubordinate little brat. He hadn't been talked back to, but he knew that was coming soon enough.

"If you don't come out, I'll blast you out!" To make his threat more believable, he raised his hand and started gathering energy into a yellow ki ball aimed at the entrance of the cave. He heard a half-hearted growl from inside and smirked. At least he had gotten a reaction of sorts.

"Go away, Namek." The voice from inside was tired, lacking its normal malice and arrogance. It was… unnerving.

Piccolo released his ki attack into the cave and watched as an explosion of bright light, smoke, and dust erupted from inside the cave, and the ground shuddered with the shockwaves. His cape billowed behind him and he covered his eyes with his forearm to protect them from flying debris. Any second now, the saiyan would come out. He wouldn't take an attack like that lying down.

The Namekian waited a few more minutes before he heard the sound of sand scraping against rock as the saiyan pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward the mouth of the cave. What he saw next stunned him. His jaw dropped and any impatience he had dissipated.

Vegeta looked terrible. He was gaunt, pale, his eyes were sunken and hollow with dark rings beneath. His finely sculpted muscles had shrunken and his posture was subdued as his shoulders sagged, tail hung limply between his legs, and head was bowed. He was dirty and disheveled looking. A distorted reflection of his proud, commanding self.

"What do you want?" he hissed, his voice rasping through his dry throat. It failed to carry the menacing tone he intended.

Piccolo looked the small saiyan up and down and frowned. "You've been missing for months. We've been concerned since your ki has dropped so low."

The prince shrugged and sat down on a boulder, trying to make it look natural when really his legs were shaking too much to support his own weight. "What do any of you care? The only thing you want me around for is fighting the androids. After that you couldn't care less if I lived or died." His words were bitter, full of resentment and resignation.

"I'm taking you back to Capsule Corp." Piccolo wasn't in the mood to coddle the saiyan and lie to him by telling him everything he just said wasn't true.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and glared coldly at the Namekian. "You will do no such thing. I am not wanted there and I do not wish to return."

"When is the last time you ate?"

The saiyan shrugged. He couldn't remember his last meal. He had lost the will to satisfy his hunger after a couple weeks of leaving the compound. Nothing mattered to him anymore since he had been exiled from his pack. It was a fate worse than death for saiyans; it was shameful, maddening.

Piccolo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. This was definitely not what he had expected when he had started searching for the missing saiyan. He thought his ki was low because he was suppressing it, not because he was slowly killing himself through self-neglect. His body was obviously eating away at itself to survive and Vegeta didn't even seem to care.

"I don't care what you want," he growled. "Bulma wants you back, for one thing. Now stop with the self pity and come on."

Vegeta waved his hand in dismissal and forced himself onto his wobbly legs and turned to go back to his dwelling place. But before he had taken two steps Piccolo phased behind him and struck him in the side of the head, knocking him out. Either he hadn't sensed it coming or he was too weak to defend himself. Piccolo was afraid it was the latter. He threw the saiyan's disturbingly light body over his shoulder and took off toward Capsule Corp.

Goku and Gohan, who had also been searching for Vegeta, felt Piccolo's ki racing toward West City and headed in the same direction. He had probably found the missing saiyan and was taking him back to Capsule Corp, but why they couldn't feel the prince's ki as well was confusing and distressing. They knew it was low, but they didn't anticipate what they encountered when they found the Namekian landing on the front lawn of the compound.

"Hey Piccolo," Goku said, pointing his finger at the limp body, "Are you sure that's Vegeta? It sure doesn't look like him."

Piccolo rolled his eyes and nodded. "This is him, alright. Just… malnourished."

Goku's eyes widened. "You mean starved?" The thought was more terrifying than anything else he could think of. Starvation was, in his opinion, the most painful, horrifying thing that could ever happen to a person, especially a saiyan. If it weren't for the breastplate Vegeta was wearing he would have been able to see his ribs protruding sickeningly under his skin. He shuddered and backed away from Vegeta as if his self-imposed starvation were contagious.

"That doesn't make any sense," Gohan argued, "It's not like he couldn't have found anything to eat." He scratched his head and eyed the unconscious saiyan suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter," Piccolo snapped. "Let's get him inside and let Bulma take care of this mess."

The others jumped a little at his peevish tone and nodded in unison as they followed him into the compound. Both of them were trying to get a better look at the man – or what was left of a man – hanging over their friend's shoulder. So far he hadn't moved and they could hardly see him breathing. The Namekian's ki was too strong, even at rest, for them to feel Vegeta's. Concern was worming its way into their minds as they walked through the halls of the compound in search of their blue-haired friend.

Piccolo stopped in front of a metal door and rapped his fist against it. His patience was thinning every second and he wasn't about to wait for Bulma to take her time coming to take the saiyan off his hands. He had better things to do, like train and meditate. "Bulma! We found him."

A few seconds later the three warriors could hear light footsteps racing up the stairs behind the door and then it opened, revealing a disheveled, sleep-deprived, blue-haired woman with worry and fear coming off her in waves. "You found him? Oh my Kami, Vegeta?" She reached out to touch the saiyan's back but pulled her hand back. Her mouth straightened into a firm line and she knitted her eyebrows when she looked him over. "What did you do to him?"

"I knocked him out. He'll be fine."

Bulma glanced up at the green man's face and nodded in understanding. Most likely he hadn't come willingly and it was the only way to get him moving. She sighed and shut the door behind her. "Alright, let's take him to the infirmary. Again. I'm sure you know the way by now. I'm going to get some things, so I'll meet you there."

Piccolo nodded and turned to go through the winding halls of the compound to the infirmary wing – again – still bearing his weightless burden. When he reached the room he had been in more times than he'd like to count he dropped the saiyan on the exam table and walked back out. He had wasted enough time fooling around with Vegeta and didn't plan on sticking around to hear that he was malnourished, dehydrated, and atrophied. He already knew that.

"Where you going Piccolo?" Gohan asked as his mentor disappeared around the corner.

"To meditate."

"Oh." The boy shrugged and went to the side of the table and looked down at the man who had yet to wake. He sure didn't look like the Vegeta he knew. He was nothing but skin and bones and looked like he hadn't slept in days, maybe longer. He turned innocent, questioning eyes to his father, but his helpless, confused look was mirrored back to him.

Bulma started running toward the infirmary once she had grabbed a bottle of water and made a few sandwiches, but she stopped herself and with head held high walked through the halls. She wasn't going to go rushing to his aid. He didn't deserve it. Sure, she had asked her friends to bring him back to the compound, but only so she could check up on him. She hated him and didn't really care to see him ever again, but he had a knack for neglecting himself and whether or not she liked him she was still counting on him to help them defeat the androids. She hadn't really anticipated him being in such a terrible state, but here she was catering to his needs again, running to play nurse when she'd rather turn him out and rid her life of him forever.

'Good thing I told them to hunt him down,' she thought bitterly. 'The jerk would've let himself die and then where would we be? Dead when the androids come. He is such a selfish little prick!'

A few minutes later she walked into the infirmary room and set the food and water on the counter and gave a warning look to Goku that said "Touch it and die" before approaching the starving saiyan. She sighed when she saw his pale, bony face. He always had sharp features, but this was plainly unhealthy. With Goku's help she pulled the chest armor off his body and felt his ribs, cringing in disgust at the sensation. His body must have been eating away at itself for weeks, or even longer. She didn't know how long a saiyan could last without food.

She roughly shook his shoulder to see if he would stir from his unconscious state but got no favorable results. "Why don't you just wake up, you jerk?" she muttered and slapped him across the face. She saw Gohan and Goku jump back out of the corner of her eye and felt only a small pang of guilt for her harsh action. It hadn't worked anyway. "He's not going to come to any time soon, so we might as well leave," she told the father and son.

"But shouldn't you do something to help him?" Gohan asked. He frowned when he saw her shake her head and walk out of the room and head in the same direction Piccolo had gone. He looked up at his dad again for reassurance.

Goku shrugged and frowned too. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing," he mumbled. He put his hand on Gohan's shoulder and led him out of the room to follow his oldest friend.

Vegeta's eyes cracked open and stared at the bright fluorescent light above him. His head was throbbing with pain and his stomach clenched in hunger, but he didn't notice these things. He had disconnected his mind from his body long ago so he could ignore its cries for food, water, and sleep. The basic necessities of life no longer mattered to him. With more effort than he ever would have liked to admit, he pushed himself up to sit with his legs dangling over the edge of the table. There was food and water on the counter in front of him and he knew it was for him. He didn't care. He didn't want handouts.

He wrapped his mangy-looking tail around his waist and slid onto the floor, his weight nearly overwhelming his shaking legs. With more will than strength, he worked to put one foot in front of the other as he stumbled to the door and out into the hall, leaning against the wall for support as he made the long trek out of the infirmary. If he was lucky he wouldn't encounter anyone and could escape before they could stop him. Assuming they would. They probably wouldn't care. His senses were dulled and he could barely remember his way out of the compound, but muscle memory was trustworthy enough to be his guide.

"He's awake," Goku said, turning to the blue-haired woman sitting next to him on the couch watching TV. He expected to see some sort of excitement, concern, anything. But all he got was a one-shoulder shrug in response to his announcement. He searched her face for the emotions he wanted to see there, but her expression was blank. She really didn't care.

Gohan looked up at them from his place on the floor and raised an eyebrow as he shot his father a look full of agitation and disbelief. It was very uncharacteristic of Bulma to not care about someone, no matter how awful they were. For Kami's sake, she was the one who took the saiyan home in the first place, so why was she acting so callous now? He couldn't figure it out. Even though he was still afraid of the saiyan prince, he didn't want anything bad to happen to him, and it looked like bad things could bombard him and Bulma wouldn't bat an eye.

"Maybe I should go check up on him," Goku said as he moved to stand up. He blinked in shock when Bulma's hand shot out to grab his arm and yank him back down. She was giving him a cold glare and shook her head. No words were needed for him to know she didn't want him or anyone else to bother with the other saiyan. He struggled with that idea; he was someone who always wanted to help everyone, it just wasn't in him to ignore someone's need for help. And from what he had seen of Vegeta, he desperately needed some kind of help.

But Bulma was firm about wanting the older saiyan to be left to his own business. And Goku, as much as he wanted to help, was afraid of her wrath and so he sat back on the couch and monitored Vegeta's ki while he pretended to watch TV with her.

Vegeta staggered down the last hall, the front door of the compound now in sight. He was gasping for breath but he pushed on, determined to make it out without any holdups. The sound of his labored breathing reached the ears of the younger saiyan who was sitting in the living room, but he couldn't have cared had he known. He could pant and wheeze all he wanted so long as he escaped his torment. His left foot got caught behind the right and he collapsed to the floor in a tangle of thin, powerless limbs. He groaned and banged his head against the soft carpet a few times. What could be more humiliating? He was dying and now he tripped over his own feet.

Maybe a little rest would be welcome. With a grunt of effort he forced himself to his hands and knees and crawled forward until he reached a door he had never opened before. He tried the knob and, upon finding it unlocked, turned it and pulled the door open. The room was dark and smelled of mountain breezes, rain, and lavender. He crawled into the room, shut the door behind himself, and curled into a ball in a dark corner under a table.

Goku cocked his head when he heard a door open and close and Vegeta's panting stopped. Had he gone into another room? If so, what room and why? He gave Bulma a sidelong glance and shook his head. He couldn't keep ignoring the prince's plight. He was in serious need of someone's help, and if she wouldn't give it to him then he would. Goku stood up from the couch, giving the excuse that he was going to get a snack from the kitchen. He left the living room and sensed for Vegeta's ki, but it was so weak he had trouble locating it. There were several doors in the hall, but none of them led to anywhere interesting except the kitchen. Going by his logic, which wasn't as flawed as some might think, he walked into the kitchen and looked all over for the other saiyan, but he was nowhere in sight.

Vegeta's body was trembling with its recent exertion as he held himself in the fetal position. He rolled onto his side and had his eyes on the crack of light shining under the door. He heard Kakarrot walk past the door and go into the kitchen. If he had been in better shape he might have rolled his eyes, but he couldn't be bothered to make the cynical gesture at the present time. He had his already negligible ki suppressed to the point of nonexistence so he knew he wouldn't be found if anyone started looking for him that way. He would just have to outwait the patience of any search parties, assuming there were any.

Goku furrowed his brows in concentration as he searched for Vegeta's ki, but he couldn't feel him anywhere. Either he was dead, which wasn't as implausible as he would have liked, or he had gotten very good at hiding his ki. He sighed and walked out of the kitchen. He had looked in every nook and cranny the room had to offer but there was no flame-haired saiyan to be found.

The sound of small feet pitter-pattering in the hall caught Vegeta's attention before the door to the small room swung open and the slim silhouette of Mrs. Brief holding some kind of basket appeared in the doorframe. He scooted back under the table further until he was pressed against the wall and willed himself to breathe quietly. If there was anyone who would bother him in his current state, it was her. He watched as her thin legs stepped in front of the table and heard the plastic basket slap down on the table. The light turned on and she started humming as she opened a door on the top of the metal box next to him.

Mrs. Brief tossed the dirty laundry into the washing machine and poured her favorite mountain breeze scented detergent in and turned the machine on. As it started its characteristic whirring she pulled the dryer door open and started pulling a load of clean, fluffy towels out to fold and put in the basket so she could carry them back to the linen closets in the compound. She sniffed them and giggled happily at the scent of lavender woven into the fibers of the towels. All through this she was oblivious to the other occupant in the room, the strong smells of detergent and fabric softener masking his unclean stench.

Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief when the light turned off and the door closed behind the crazy blonde woman. Figuring his body had had enough time to recover and not sensing anyone in the hall, he crawled out from under the table and cracked the door open to peer out. As he had suspected, there was no one around. He pushed the door open wider with his shoulder and crawled out of the laundry room, pushing the door shut with his tail behind him. Just thirty more feet and he would be home free. What he would do once he got outside he hadn't figured out yet, but he wasn't worried about that. His first goal was getting there.

"Why should we worry about him, Goku? He – he's a monster! And he doesn't care about anyone but himself," Bulma shouted in the next room over. "I don't want to waste my time on him and I won't let anyone else either. He needs to learn to take care of himself."

Vegeta pressed himself against the wall when he heard the blue-haired woman start screaming in the room he was currently trying to pass by unnoticed. He winced at her words that only helped strengthen his resolve to leave the compound as quickly as possible. Under normal circumstances he would have been mortified to be reduced to skulking around like a common criminal, but he knew he didn't have the strength to put up a fight if anyone came asking for one. It was his own fault but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except escape.

"But what if he dies?" Goku asked as he rested his hand on Bulma's shoulder.

She shrugged his hand off and turned away from him to glare out the window. "He won't die. Nothing will kill that creep." A soft thud sounded from the hall and all eyes turned toward the door.

"Damnit…" Vegeta muttered as his face once again met the carpet. He pushed himself to his elbows and spit out the fibers of carpet that had gotten into his mouth. With a grunt he dragged himself further down the hall but his strength finally gave out and he could no longer move. He was stuck, helpless, dying.

The three in the living room exchanged glances before simultaneously bolting for the door to see what was going on. Goku ran out the door and the others plowed into him and they collapsed in a heap outside the door. Gohan was the first to extract himself from the pile of kicking legs and flailing arms and looked around until his eyes rested on the frail saiyan down the hall. He jumped to his feet and ran over to Vegeta.

"Are you ok, Vegeta?" he asked, almost frantic. He put his fingers on the prince's neck to feel his pulse and frowned when he hardly felt it, slow and weak like the rest of the saiyan's body. It was fading. "Bulma, you _have_ to help him! I think he's dying."

By this time Bulma and Goku had untangled themselves and she sprinted over to Vegeta and knelt down at his side and gently turned him onto his back. His eyes were closed, perhaps indicating unconsciousness, and his breathing was shallow. His skin was cold to the touch and pale and dry. "Damnit, Vegeta. What the hell did you do to yourself?"

"You don't give…a shit," the saiyan mumbled. His words were mostly unintelligible as he struggled to speak around his dry tongue that was sticking to the roof of his mouth with a dry throat and raspy voice. He swung his arm out to shove Bulma away from him but, to her surprise and his chagrin, she easily caught it and held it back. His breathing became more labored with the small effort and his eyes rolled back as he finally passed out.

'You're wrong, 'Geta, I do care. Damn it all, I care.' Bulma frowned and looked to her old friend.

"Goku? Take him back to the infirmary. He's worse than I thought. I'll be there soon, you can eat the food in there, if he left it," she instructed as she stood up and ran into the kitchen. The sound of pots and pans banging around was heard from behind the door as Goku gathered the prince into his arms and lifted him.

"Gohan, help Bulma with what she's doing," Goku ordered as he ran down the hall headed toward the overly familiar infirmary wing of the compound. Gohan was left behind shaking his head in exasperation with the two adults. First Bulma insisted no one help Vegeta and now she's ordering his dad around to take him back to the infirmary and goes to make him food or something. And his dad was busy catering to the needs of the grumpy prince when all he could expect in return was a punch in the face. Maybe two. Shrugging, he went into the kitchen to help Bulma in whatever way he could. It wasn't as though he wanted Vegeta to die, but he was frustrated with everyone being all wishy-washy about how to help the saiyan prince. Maybe now they would finally get something done.

Vegeta regained consciousness but he didn't open his eyes. The bright red of his eyelids told him there was an even brighter light directly above him that he didn't care to look at. His head was pounding with an intense migraine and he didn't want to face his prison. His escape attempt had failed and now he was being held against his will in a place where he wasn't even wanted. The broken pieces of his dignity were being crushed into the ground under the heel of the woman's boot.

"You awake there, buddy?" The voice sounded distant and muffled to him. It was so familiar but from long ago. Or had it been so long? He couldn't remember. His lips curled in a shadow of a snarl. He hated this feeling of disorientation.

Some aroma reached his nose and he sniffed it weakly. The scent was… enticing. Delicious. Rich. He inhaled more deeply until his lungs felt like they would burst. He exhaled sharply and coughed as his body rejected the overload of oxygen. When his mouth opened to cough it was invaded by a warm fluid, slightly salty, but tasty. He swallowed it on instinct.

Bulma smiled when she saw the saiyan's Adam's apple bob up and down as he accepted the small spoonful of broth she had prepared for him. It was weak enough not to overwhelm his starved body but strong enough to nurse a saiyan back to health quickly. When his mouth opened for more she chuckled and complied with his silent request, giving him another spoonful of soup. By now he probably wasn't even aware of being hungry or thirsty, but his senses were telling him that the chicken-flavored substance was good.

After finishing a bowl of chicken broth and a cup of water, Bulma figured he had enough for now. She didn't want to cause refeeding syndrome, so she was being careful with how much nourishment to provide him. Probably as a saiyan he could handle more than a human, but she wasn't taking chances. She would give him small increments of food and water frequently and keep testing his blood daily while providing some nutrients such as phosphate intravenously. The most trouble she was going to have would be keeping him in bed long enough for his body to regain some strength; he had already tried leaving once and would likely do it again. For what reasons she couldn't fathom, but that was irrelevant. He had nearly killed himself doing it and she wasn't going to take that risk with him again.

"Stupid saiyan," she said as she ran her hand through his feathery mane fondly, "You'll be the death of me yet. I'm not your damn personal nurse but I always end up taking care of you when you're too dumb to do it yourself." She gave him a half smile and picked up the bowl and cup to carry back to the kitchen. Hopefully he would stay still while she was gone.

Several minutes later she came back into the small room of the infirmary and sat down next to the sleeping saiyan. He was just as she had left him, for which she was grateful. She held his bony hand in hers and stroked it with her thumb. The prominence of his bones sickened her but she wouldn't let go of him this time. She already had before and saw what happened.

'Why did you do this to yourself, Vegeta? I wish I could get in that head of yours to see what you're thinking when you try to kill yourself. There has to be a reason behind it. Is it because of me? Because I rejected you when you were just being honest with me?' The corners of Bulma's lips twitched as a smile tried to form but died. Her vision blurred slightly as unshed tears filled them. 'I was so mad at you. I didn't know what to think. You couldn't admit what you did and expect me to just shrug it off, could you? No, that's not what you wanted. You wanted me to know who you were. Who you used to be. I'm sorry I forgot that, 'Geta. You've been changing and all I could see at that moment was the old you. Forgive me.'

Bulma laid her head on his chest and traced the outline of his ribs where she had once traced his bulging muscles. "I tried so hard to stay mad at you. And I succeeded until I saw you lying there completely helpless. And I realized that it was my fault. You're different, Vegeta, and I won't ever forget that again. So don't you dare leave me now, I can't live without you. We're a pack, remember? We stick together." She didn't see the expression of consternation on his face.

_A/N: Here it is! Relief from the cliffy. I considered ending the story there... ;D_

_Now review! Go!_

_Song: "Walk Away" by Franz Ferdinand_


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

_No I'm not the man I used to be lately  
See you met me at an interesting time  
If my past is any sign of your future  
You should be warned before I let you inside_

For the next few weeks Bulma stayed by the saiyan's side as he gradually regained strength and muscle mass. She was thankful for his body's ability to bounce back from inanition. He had been abnormally silent through it all, accepting the food she brought, sometimes letting her feed him, drinking when she gave him water, sleeping when she gently pushed him down on the bed and flipped the lights off, and withholding complaints when she drew his blood to test his levels of electrolytes, blood sugar, and insulin. Whenever she looked in his direction he would avert or close his eyes and he always kept his arms, legs, and tail to himself.

It broke her heart the way he was acting: aloof, disinterested, submissive. She found herself wanting him to argue with her, insult her, push her away, backhand her, anything. Put up a fight when she hovered over him. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't give her more than neutral grunts when she tried to talk to him and wouldn't respond when she touched him in any way. She could tell a wall had been erected between them and she didn't know how to get past it.

"Why won't you let me near you?" she asked one day when she thought he was sleeping.

His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, but his head remained turned away from her. "An angel does not belong with a demon." His voice cracked from disuse and a dry throat but it was still deep and strong. His beautiful, commanding voice, she thought. Though it sounded empty, devoid of life.

Bulma's heart fluttered when she heard him speak to her. It was the first time in over three days. She didn't know what his cryptic response meant, but she was happy to hear his voice. "What do you mean?" she whispered and took his hand in hers.

She could barely discern him shaking his head it was such a minute gesture. She squeezed his hand but he didn't squeeze in return. He never did anymore. Bulma clenched her teeth and sniffled as she held back tears of frustration. What had she done wrong? She couldn't figure it out and she'd been trying for days, weeks. He gave her no clues and dropped no hints. Was it because of the terrible things he heard her say before he passed out the day Piccolo brought him back to the compound? She wished more than anything that she could take those foolish words back even though she doubted they were the cause of his abnormal behavior.

"Aren't we pack mates?"

Vegeta pulled his hand away from hers and rolled onto his side facing away from her. His tail curled around his waist tightly. "If that, nothing more," his voice rumbled.

Bulma reached her hand out to him but his flinch warned her to leave him be. She sighed sadly and walked to the door. "I'll go get you something to eat," she mumbled as she walked out, shutting the door and the lights off behind her. He had asked her a couple weeks ago to keep the lights off when she wasn't there because he preferred the dark. She was almost reluctant to comply with his request, thinking it might be feeding his depressed mood. Living in the dark was no way to live at all.

She came back half an hour later with a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, but Vegeta had fallen asleep. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to doze off when she went on a food run, but this time she was a little put off by it. She wanted him to explain what he said earlier but it looked like she wasn't going to get any answers soon. Not knowing what else to do, Bulma set the plate on the counter and ran her hand through his mane of upswept hair before turning the lights off and leaving the room so he could rest. Curious as she was about the answer to her question, she knew allowing him sleep took priority.

_'An angel does not belong with a demon.'_

The memory of his words would not stop running through Bulma's mind as she sat down in her lab to work on some paperwork she had gotten behind in. She figured by now it was safe to leave Vegeta alone for a while since he appeared to have no desire to leave again. Actually, he hadn't left the infirmary since his single failed attempt to escape. It was encouraging to see his body recovering so quickly and she had begun to look forward to measuring his progress. He was gaining weight steadily, his color had returned, his heart rate, blood pressure, and respiration were back to normal, and he looked rested. Muscles were still filling out, but she knew they would grow even faster when he went back to training. She had to feed him more daily and any worries she had about refeeding syndrome were waning as he seemed to be suffering no ill consequences from his increasing intake of proteins and carbohydrates. His recovery was progressing rapidly, but he still had a long way to go.

Bulma shook her head to get the echoes of his words out. It was dawning on her what he meant. He was a demon, she was an angel. At least in his view, anyway. They couldn't be more than pack mates because they were fundamentally different. He was darkness and she was light, opposites, adversaries. She was idealistic and he was cynically realistic. His soul was blackened and hers was pure. They could be friends, but never more. So he thought.

Once the blue-haired woman had forgiven Vegeta for his past atrocities, her old fondness and desire for him had grown substantially. She had always been drawn to the dangerous and mysterious, which he was in every way. He was drawn to acceptance and respect, both of which she freely gave him. How were they not a match made in heaven?

Vegeta thought that Bulma's purity should not be tainted with his foulness. By distancing himself from her, he was protecting what he admired in her: the ability to look past wrongs and forgive and love, to be carefree and light-hearted, untarnished and shining with a light he could not bear to look at for its brilliance. He was everything she was not. And he would not allow himself, the scum of the universe, to mar its most beautiful creation. His self-loathing had returned tenfold when she admitted to needing him in her life. Everything about that was wrong. He could see that she was attracted to him, but he feared it was more out of curiosity than anything else. He was like a drug to her; if she indulged too much she would become addicted and then living without him really _would _be impossible. Therefore he decided to push her away for her own good because he thought himself unworthy of her affections. She did not deserve to have her life ruined by him, the destroyer of worlds and scourge of the universe.

Bulma returned to the infirmary two hours later and flipped the light switch in Vegeta's room. The sandwiches were gone and the bed was empty. Her stomach lurched and she backed out of the room and started running down the hall toward the front of the compound. Maybe he had gone into the kitchen to get more food.

As she raced around a corner she heard a familiar sound that had been silent for several months and skidded to a halt. She turned the opposite way she had intended to go and jaunted down the hall until she was standing in front of a large metal door. The gravity room. That was where the noise was coming from. She sighed in some relief but some apprehension. Vegeta was not known for easy workouts and while she wanted him to start exercising again, she was afraid he would push too hard too soon and hurt himself. She raised her hand and knocked on the door.

The gravity simulator powered down and a few seconds later the door opened, revealing a sweaty, panting saiyan with a black flame of hair. He rolled his eyes when he saw her and crossed his arms over his chest and tightened his tail around his waist. "I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear it, Woman. I am not going to overdo it. Now leave." He dismissed her with his hand and shut the door before she even had a chance to speak. Her mind was still trying to work when the gravity simulator started back up.

She stood there gaping at the door for a minute before she could figure out what had just happened. She came to check up on him, he opened the door, told her off, and went back to training while her brain went on vacation. Alright, she had that much figured out. But had he really assured her that he wouldn't overdo it? That was a first. She shrugged and walked back down the hall, having no other choice than to trust his judgment.

Vegeta sensed the blue-haired woman's ki moving away and dropped to the floor to resume his push-ups. No, his training was not as intense as he wished it could be. Simple exercises were straining at 50Gs and unbearable at 75Gs. What had he been at before? Over 1500Gs. He had been able to ascend to the legendary, but that was not attainable anymore. It would take a long time to work back to where he had been, and that enraged him.

There was only a year left before the androids were going to be released on the world. Maybe it would be wise to forfeit his place in the battle, but he couldn't do that. His honor would not allow it. And so he would have to work his way back up to his previous power level. He had been all-powerful, unrivaled. Now he was weak, maybe as weak as one of the human warriors. Even weaker? That thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

'No wonder exile was considered a fate worse than death,' he mused as he finished a set of right-handed push-ups. 'It steals away your sanity and will to live until you eventually kill yourself through the slowest, most humiliating means imaginable.'

He shook his head until he was dizzy trying to forget the past few months. He still didn't know if he could ever truly be a part of the blue-haired woman's pack again. Inadvertently he had alienated himself and then purposely distanced himself when she expressed her continued acceptance of him, the loner. He was well aware of how he didn't fit into her clique. He was not friendly, trusting, benevolent, pure-hearted. He was a dark soul who did not and never would belong with her. So while some of the loneliness had ebbed away just by being in her company, he knew he was still very much alone and always would be.

Vegeta found himself in a catch 22 when it came to the woman. He had promised not to hurt her, but he had done it numerous times, though never physically. On his honor he would never do it knowingly, yet he didn't see anything else he could do. Staying with her and not accepting her desire for him would hurt her because she would feel rejected, but staying with her and accepting her desire would infect her with his festering evil. He would blemish her with his blackness, robbing her of her beauty, her _self_. Then if he left she would be hurt because she wanted to have him around. Even if he did it for her benefit, her silly emotions would cause pain.

So what could he do?

He could no longer deny to himself that he felt _something_ for the angelic woman other than simple camaraderie, which made his choices even more confusing. He was scared of what he felt because he had never experienced it before. He was scared that he would give in to his feelings and act in a way that would, perhaps, satisfy the woman for a while but would leave her broken and hurting later on. She wouldn't know what she was getting herself into by getting intimately involved with him. No one he had ever been close to had escaped misery and an early death. Somehow he knew it was always his fault and he couldn't willingly bring that on her.

'Why should I care? Why not take what I want? What's holding me back?' Vegeta already knew the answers to his questions, but he wanted to rethink them. He cared because she cared about him. She was his pack mate and he had to protect her. He couldn't take what he wanted because that would violate his need to protect her. His honor was holding him back. He could damn his honor to hell but it would never leave him.

There was one last question: Would it be dishonorable if she wanted it too?

The answer to this question did not come as easily as he would have liked. She was an adult, capable of making her own choices about her life. If it was her choice to want him as more than a 'friend' then who was he to deny her? Especially if he wanted her in the same way? But it wasn't that simple because though she was a responsible adult (most of the time) she still would have no idea what repercussions might result from such a relationship with him. He could tell her, but even that wouldn't be enough. Without experiencing the consequences she could never fully understand what they meant. He did. So, would he allow her to make a decision that would harm her in the long run when he had vowed to protect her from all harm, even if she didn't care about the risk? The only thing he could think to do was to give her the cold shoulder until she lost her desire for him. The pain might last for a while, but it wouldn't hurt her as bad as any of the other options. And so ultimately he decided to keep up what he had already set into motion: push her away, give her no reason to want him around, discourage her interest in him.

"I'm not a damn angel anyway," Bulma grumbled to the robot she was taking apart to find the problems in its wiring. She slammed her screwdriver on the table and ripped the cover off the robot's body. "I've done plenty of bad things too. Maybe I've never killed anyone, but I've done bad…stuff. I'm selfish and conceited. Doesn't that make me a bad person?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at herself when she realized she was trying to convince herself she was evil. She knew she had her faults, but they weren't anything out of the ordinary. And, in some ways, she was better than most people. She was infinitely compassionate, forgiving, idealistic, trusting, and charitable. She loved life and people and anything living because to her they were all wonderful. She had seen bad things: for one, Yamcha dying in the battle with the saiyans (well, saibamen), Goku transforming into an Oozaru, Piccolo trying to kill Goku and take over the world, Raditz kidnapping Gohan, a massacred village on Namek. But none of that ever seemed to faze her. She knew there were bad people in the universe and she hated what they did, but it never made her lose her positive outlook on, well, _everything_. She was optimistic and loving to fault. Hell, that was why she invited Vegeta to stay with her in the first place.

She disconnected a wire and pulled it out of the robot. "Ok, so considering Vegeta's background I can see why he would think I'm all good. But even so, how does that make it wrong for us to be together? We're like two sides of a coin. Opposites attract, right?" She knew that, in fact, the more alike people were the better they got along, especially in romantic relationships, but she was ignoring psychological research at the moment because it didn't benefit her. She was undeniably drawn to the flame-haired saiyan and she wanted him. And she _always_ got what she wanted. She was Bulma Brief!

Anyway, Bulma was sure that someone who dwelled in darkness and only knew evil would crave someone who could show him good things and the light that always overcame evil. That would make sense, wouldn't it? Then again, someone used to the dark might be frightened by the light that was so alien, bright, revealing. Maybe light would only make him hate himself and his life more by showing him what he lacked, so he rejected it out of self-preservation. How could he live knowing how bad he was? But that was no excuse. He _needed_ her. Her light.

"And besides, he's changing so much. I would hardly call him evil anymore. He might be ambivalent morally, but that doesn't mean he's absolutely evil like the devil himself. He just needs guidance on how to be good. I can show him how to be good." Bulma nodded to herself as she reached her conclusion: She would stick by Vegeta's side through thick and thin as she had always done and persist even when he pushed her away, shut her out, or ran away.

That night Vegeta returned to his old guestroom after a short workout in the gravity room after dinner. He turned the light on and went into the bathroom to take his post-training shower, but froze when he saw that all of his belongings – the few he had – were gone. There was no soap or shampoo in the shower, no soap on the counter by the sink, no toothbrush and toothpaste in the drawer, and no towels hanging on the door. He did an about face and marched back into his room and threw the dresser drawers open only to find them empty. Then he noticed that the torn up bed had finally been replaced. His nest was cleaned up, gone. Panicking, he ran to the closet and threw the door open, dislodging it from its hinges, and stopped breathing when he saw it was entirely empty aside from a few hangers. He turned and looked around the room. This _was_ his room, wasn't it? Maybe in his tired state he had gone to the wrong one.

Shaking his head in confusion and disbelief, Vegeta went back out to the hall and looked around. There were the stairs, there was the woman's room one door down. Yes, this was the room he had always been in. But it was empty. His memory had been wiped clean from the compound. It wasn't surprising, really. Even he had never planned on returning, so why would the Briefs have thought he would? Up until he passed out the blue-haired woman had never even _wanted_ him to come back. She hated him for what he had done, what he had been. So of course she would have wanted to erase any sign of his presence from her life. Still, it cut him deeply that she had thrown away any trace of his life with her. When his vision started to blur he realized he had stopped breathing a while ago and his weak body was begging for oxygen. He exhaled and took a deep breath in.

He wanted to be angry with Bulma for taking everything away. He was back to having only the clothes on his back. His saiyan armor, forever an emblem of his defeat at Frieza's hands. Forever a symbol of his undying honor. He wore the battered armor with pride; the small hole over his chest a badge of victory over enslavement. He had died because he refused to rejoin his old master. His defiance made the defeat tolerable, even welcome. Because he chose it. But, as usual, that was all he had: pride, honor, perhaps arrogance. He was beginning to learn that that wasn't as much as he had once thought. It left him wanting so much more. Not material possessions, but what those possessions would signify: belongingness.

'I am not a member of this pack anymore. Does that mean I am still bound by honor to protect the woman from myself?' Vegeta chuckled humorlessly at his wandering thoughts. His laugh, ringing once again with insanity, resounded through the compound until he dropped to his knees and fell forward on his hands.

"I am a fool!" he roared with insane mirth. "I'm a bloody fucking fool! I should go back to the infirmary, I practically live there anyway. What do I need these quarters for?" His laughter died down to a snicker as he pulled himself back to his feet and went back downstairs.

With no real destination in mind the saiyan wandered the winding halls of Capsule Corp, occasionally releasing a guffaw that simmered down to more snickering until it died out as a low chuckle with a half-amused smirk. His thoughts were tangled and broken, which he found oddly humorous and contemptible. After a while he had no idea where he was anymore and couldn't seem to figure out which direction was which as he turned around in circles with a blank expression on his face. He decided it didn't matter anyway since he didn't really belong there at all to begin with, so he shrugged and opened a door to his right. He walked in without bothering to figure out what sort of room he was entering and soon found himself engulfed in musty old coats and sweaters long since forgotten.

He collapsed on the floor laughing. "I'm in a fucking closet," he gasped out. "I have finally lost my damn mind and I don't even give a shit." He stood up and kicked the door off its hinges and walked down the hall to another door, staggering around as if he were drunk.

This time Vegeta peered in before entering. It was a long, narrow room lined with boxes stacked to the ceiling. A storage room, of sorts. He snorted at the unlikelihood of finding himself wasting time in there and slammed the door shut. 'What if I get lost in this damn place and die because I can't find my way back to the kitchen for nourishment?' he thought with morbid amusement as he stumbled down the hall.

Half an hour later he rounded a corner and discovered that he was in a hall he recognized. He walked to a set of double doors and pushed them open. Without bothering with the lights he closed the doors behind himself and walked into the room and curled up in a large brown leather chair. He yawned and fell asleep shortly after.

"Vegeta?" Bulma called as she checked all the likely places for the saiyan prince to be hiding out. She had already been to the gravity room, her lab, the kitchen, the living room, the recreation room, and now his old guestroom. Her voice echoed back to her and she cringed at the barrenness of the room. She had gone through it after he left and threw all his clothes into boxes and took them to the attic, probably never to be seen again. Or at least that's what she thought at the time. His other things she simply disposed of, figuring there was no purpose to saving his toothbrush or half-empty bottle of shampoo. Maybe she had gone too far in cleaning the room out, but at the time she wanted nothing more than to live the rest of her life without seeing him ever again. She regretted that now, but it wasn't like she had done any permanent damage. His clothes were still around and his toiletries were easily replaced.

She frowned when she saw that the closet door was broken. That was evidence that he'd been there already, and if he wasn't there now, he'd probably noticed his missing possessions and left. She felt her heart racing as she shut the guestroom door behind her and went back downstairs. Her mother and father hadn't seen him since he left the dinner table, so they weren't any help in her search for the saiyan. 'Where else would he be?' she wondered as she rechecked the kitchen. 'I could see if he went back to the infirmary, but somehow I doubt he would have. Oh, please Vegeta, don't be gone again.'

"Where the hell are you, Vegeta?" she yelled in exasperation. She had been looking for nearly an hour but he was nowhere to be found. Surely he hadn't left the compound? She shook her head to dismiss that thought and tried to remember where else he had spent time when he was there before. He wasn't out in the yard. Maybe the library? She smacked her forehead and turned in the direction of one of the only places he was likely to be she hadn't looked in yet.

Bulma groaned when the doors swung open to reveal a dark room. She had really been counting on finding the prince in the library. She took a few steps in and looked around, but she couldn't see more than ten feet in front of her. She slapped her arms against her sides and turned to leave, but then she heard a low rumbling sound not too far away. Her eyebrow quirked as she strained her ears to hear the quiet noise. "Vegeta?"

The rumbling stopped abruptly and silence ensued for a moment before an occasional thumping sound began. Bulma sighed and flipped the lights on so she could see what exactly was going on. When she turned back to the room she was startled to find Vegeta lying in a chair, dark eyes fixed on her in a threatening glare with a snarl on his lips and tail beating the chair in irritation. "What are you doing in here in the dark?" she asked casually even though she could hear her heart beating frantically.

Vegeta growled again and snapped his teeth at her before curling again and ignoring her, though his tail continued its periodic tapping against the leather chair. No words were needed. He had told her that she had intruded, he wanted her to leave, and she was not a threat to him so he didn't need to pay her any more attention after issuing a warning to get out.

But the blue-haired woman took another step toward him, determined not to let him get away with such behavior and lack of manners. "Look here, bud, I don't know what your problem is – maybe the fact that you're sleeping in an uncomfortable position on a chair – but you can't act like that with me."

One obsidian eye snapped open and shot her a withering glance before shutting again. He growled louder than before and his tail flicked faster when she moved closer to him despite his warning. Bulma stopped and clenched her fists at her sides. He was acting like a feral animal and she didn't know how to deal with it this time. Some sort of rift existed between them now and she felt trepidation in crossing that invisible boundary. She inched forward until his growl intensified. So maybe telling him off hadn't been the best ice-breaker. She sighed.

The stubborn determination of both occupants of the library was driving a battle of wills as he tried to ignore her and she tried to reach out to him. Who would be the first to crack under the pressure was the only question. Bulma stood still for several minutes and Vegeta kept his guard up, ready to give his second and final warning if she took another step toward him. The tension could have been cut with a knife, it was hanging so thick in the air. Bulma's heart was threatening to break out of her chest it was hammering so hard against her ribs. She prayed to Kami that Vegeta wouldn't smell her fear, but she knew that he could and it was only a matter of time before she gave in and left if he didn't change his attitude soon.

Bulma crossed one arm over her chest and rubbed her other arm self-consciously as she bit her bottom lip and backed up a few steps. She couldn't defeat his will this time, but it didn't have to be a complete loss for her. "Are you hungry?" she mumbled.

Vegeta's tail stopped flicking and coiled around his waist. "Hn."

It wasn't much, but it was more than she had been getting in terms of a response from the saiyan, so she was thrilled with his inexpressive grunt. She whirled around and half-ran out of the library and down the hall, turning a few corners until she reached the kitchen. Grabbing the salami and cheese out of the refrigerator, Bulma beamed as she started the process of making a stack of sandwiches for her cantankerous guest. Once the plate was filled with sandwiches, she pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and took off with the snack for the saiyan.

Back in the library, Bulma scurried over to where Vegeta was still curled in the leather chair and set the plate and water on the table next to him. Disappointed by his lack of acknowledgement though she knew she wouldn't receive any thanks, she backed out of the room and shut the large doors behind her. He may have been asleep or ignoring her completely; there was no sure way for her to know since he hadn't made a sound or spared her a glance.

'This is going to be harder than I thought. He's probably just doing this to piss me off.' Bulma rubbed her palm over her face and started walking away from the library. 'I can't let him get to me. He's wrong and I'm right and we don't have to avoid each other like the plague because we're different.'

Vegeta was, actually, sleeping when the blue-haired woman returned with food for him. He was quite exhausted from his training since his body had yet to grow accustomed to his rigorous regimen. His one day of training would leave it stiff and sore, which he dreaded, but it was the only way to get his strength back. If he worked hard enough, he would be back to his previous level in four or five months. He might have to supplement his diet a little since the likelihood of attaining meat from a fresh kill at the compound was slim to none, but it would be worth it to help his muscles bulk back up.

He decided there would be no more distractions. He was done being nursed and coddled all day by the woman he had vowed to push away. No more resting through the day, he would get up before dawn and train until his body felt like it was going to break. He would eat regular meals, sleep less, and take fewer breaks. He _had_ to regain his power. Now that he knew how to channel his energy to become a super saiyan, he could do it again once his strength was restored. And there was that other energy, his primal energy, that he could bring out and become an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. It was perhaps what kept him alive in the wilderness so long when he refused to eat, drink, or sleep. It was there, just beneath his skin, empowering him.

His last thoughts before he had fallen asleep were, 'I may not be a member of this pack anymore, but at least I am permitted to live amongst its members. I will, for the most part, be able to keep my sanity, keep my loneliness at bay so that I can focus on my training. I am a loner but I am not alone. That should be sufficient. I will treat them as my own in return for their hospitality, for it is all I have to offer.'

_A/N: I'm not sure that anyone ever wondered about this, but I added the songs to my chapters _after_ I wrote the whole story. So, imagine my excitement when I got a song that fit a chapter absolutely _perfectly_. Well, this is one of them._

_Song: "I Don't Trust Myself" by John Mayer_


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

_Ooh I want you, I don't know if I need you but  
Ooh I'd die to find out  
Ooh I want you, I don't know if I need you but  
Ooh I'd die to find out_

An explosion shook the wing of the compound where the gravity room was housed. Inside, Vegeta crashed to the floor with a groan as shards of metal implanted themselves into his overworked body and the burns on his skin started to blister. The training bots were obliterated by his last ki blast, so he was safe from further attacks, but now he was plastered against the hot tile floor unable to move, much less turn off the gravity simulator.

At 225Gs he felt like he was being crushed slowly to death, but there was nothing he could do about his predicament. After a month of intensive training he was past his limits so far he couldn't reach into his reserves of energy to escape this mess since his reserves had long since run dry. He sighed in defeat as he waited for the weight of his own body to squeeze the life out of him and end his misery.

Bulma felt the explosion in her lab because it threw her out of her chair and she landed on her face with a squeal of surprise. Immediately she jumped back to her feet and raced up the stairs out of her lab and down the hall toward the gravity room where she was sure the quake had originated. She almost fell on her face again as she came to an abrupt stop in front of the door and started banging on it and calling Vegeta's name and demanding he come out.

Vegeta was still able to roll his eyes when he heard the woman pounding on the door and screaming at him. As if he could turn the gravity off and open the door so she could make sure he was fine and dandy. Idiot. If he could do that he would have done it by now. His lungs were working hard enough already to provide his body with adequate oxygen so he didn't bother with any sort of reply to her demands, though he could think of a few good ones that would take her down a notch or two.

"Damnit, are you even alive in there? If you are, some kind of grunt or something would suffice as an answer!" Bulma shouted through the door. She put her ear against the warm metal door and listened for any sound but heard nothing. "Ok, Vegeta, I'm engaging the emergency deactivation."

The saiyan inside was almost relieved at her brazen decision to interrupt his training session. Clearly there was nothing he could do to stop her even if he wanted to, so he patiently waited for the simulator to shut off so he could peel himself off the floor, hopefully before she was able to open the door. Then he could bark at her to get the hell out and stop distracting him from his training and go on a tirade about her infernal worrying while he pushed her kicking and screaming out of the room before slamming the door on her. Then he could pass out in peace and never have to hear her babbling about how he was pushing himself too hard. A perfect plan.

He filled his lungs greedily when the simulator powered down and tried to get up from the floor quickly, but his muscles were moving sluggishly and he was barely able to get up on his knees before the door flew open and the blue-haired woman rushed in to check up on him. He groaned when he saw her plant her hands on her hips and her face contorted into a scowl. Here it came, the screeching that would surely make his ears bleed and ring for days. It would have been preferable to go to a banshee opera.

"What the hell are you doing to yourself?" she screamed. "You know you can't work at the level you did before you ran off, so you better not be trying or I'm going to tear the gravity console apart so you can't use it!"

Vegeta cringed and clamped his hands over his sensitive ears. "Shut the hell up, you harpy! I wasn't training at fucking 1500Gs and I don't need you telling me how to train!" He glared at her and curled his lip in a snarl.

"Then what happened? You're going to make the whole damn place fall down!"

"It is none of your concern," he growled. "Now get out so I can resume my training. I will not tolerate your ceaseless interruptions!"

Bulma pointed an accusing finger at him before she continued, "It is too my concern if you destroy my home, you ungrateful animal! Besides, you probably hurt yourself more than you're willing to let on, so I _refuse_ to leave until you let me check you over so I know you aren't going to die since you insist on continuing your precious training."

The prince held his breath as he pushed himself to his feet so no sounds of pain could escape him. He growled at her as he rose to his full height, baring his teeth at her. "You will not touch me." He spun around and stalked over to the gravity console, tail twitching in agitation behind him. He didn't want her to see that she was right, that he was hurt more than he cared for her to know. There were hundreds of tiny pieces of metal imbedded in his body, so he was bleeding quite heavily.

But this time Bulma had had enough with his snippy attitude and callous behavior. For a month she had been trying to worm her way back through the stony barrier erected around his heart, but the harder she tried, the thicker the barrier became. She was frustrated to the brink of tears because she felt like she had lost her best friend without reason. She advanced on him so quickly he didn't even sense her coming and shoved her full weight against his back to make him stumble forward and have to catch himself on the console.

"Now look here," she shouted as he whirled around to face her, "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I'm sick of it! I'm trying to be your friend but you won't let me and I don't have any idea why because you won't even tell me. You're being the biggest asshole in the world to me and I didn't do anything to deserve it. But guess what, your royal fucking highness, I _still_ care about you and I _still_ like you even if you can't tolerate me." She kept her eyes locked on his so she didn't even notice the fact that he was severely hurt. She was desperate to make him understand that he didn't need to keep pushing her away. She wanted to lay her feelings down on the table so he would finally know how she really felt.

As she paused for a breath Vegeta's eyebrows arched in surprise at the passionate tone in her voice. He knew he was hurting her, but he hadn't had any idea how much. His mouth moved to make a reply but no sound came out. She had rendered him speechless.

"And I – I…" Bulma couldn't say the words she had rehearsed a thousand times in her mind. She knew he wouldn't understand them or accept them anyway. So she acted instead. Seeing her opportunity in his stunned silence, she put her hands behind his neck, laced her fingers together, and yanked him down so his lips met hers.

Vegeta's willpower started typing up its letter of resignation when he felt her luscious lips pressed against his in a one-sided kiss. His eyes widened with shock and his arms searched for a place to go but found nothing as they flailed in the air. Finally he was able to gain his wits and pulled her hands off his neck and straightened up again. He wanted to make a hasty retreat, but she had him backed up against the gravity console and the only way out was through her. How he got into a situation where such a tiny, weak human female was able to corner him was beyond him.

"I can't," he muttered as he turned, willing her to go away. Her close proximity was enough to make him rethink his decision to distance himself and it certainly wasn't made any better by her blatant advances on him.

Bulma didn't agree. She ran one hand through his feathery mane while the other held his chin and turned his head to face her again. She smiled at him warmly and raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. A shiver of desire spiraled down her spine when she felt him kiss back, if only slightly. She parted her lips to invite him to kiss more, but he turned away again.

"What's wrong Vege—"

He growled and told her in a low, calm tone, "Get out of here now, Woman." She knew that tone well. It was dripping with malice and unveiled threats. She felt goosebumps forming on her arms at the coldness in his demeanor and backed away, crossing her arms over her chest in a self-conscious manner. The last thing she saw before she spun on her heel to run out of the gravity room was his tail unwrapping itself from his thigh.

Once the door closed behind her Vegeta released the breath he was holding and allowed the tension in his muscles to ease up. He shook his head at her boldness and pushed the engage button on the gravity console. The only thing that could extinguish the flames of desire rising in his gut was more training; training that would push him even further until he couldn't think at all. As the simulator powered up he could feel his weight dragging him down and he struggled to stay on his feet. Every muscle in his body was screaming for relief, but that was the last thing he was going to give them. He launched himself into the center of the room and started battling an imaginary opponent with a fervor he had lacked for days. He hardly noticed the blood pouring down his body from the shrapnel imbedded in his skin. Not even that was going to slow him down. He would train until he either passed out or could honestly say he was so tired he couldn't even think anymore.

Bulma ran back to her lab blushing a deep crimson. She shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, running her fingers through her long aqua hair. "What did I just do?" she asked herself tiredly. She wouldn't deny enjoying the feeling of his hot lips crushed against her own or the thrill of taking initiative and kissing him, but now that she had done it she was deathly afraid of what would happen to their already crumbling relationship. She was more than sure that she had overstepped the boundary this time and there would be no going back now. In the only language he could really understand she had told him what he feared more than anything else in the universe: She _loved_ him.

"I am such an idiot!" she screamed as she banged her fists on the metal door behind her. She pounded the door until her hands hurt. A lone tear rolled down her cheek as she descended the stairs and collapsed into her desk chair. "Why do I have to love the one man on this planet who will never love me back?" she asked miserably. "Why does he hate me?"

That night at dinner Vegeta didn't show up to eat. He had rarely missed meals since he had resumed his training since he was trying to build up his muscle and knew he needed plenty of nourishment to do that along with his training. Mrs. Brief remarked worriedly on the oddity of his absence, Dr. Brief absent-mindedly agreed as he read his evening paper, and Bulma nodded silently as she screamed in heartbreak on the inside.

"Oh my, that sweet young man just works so hard! Maybe I should take him some food, I wouldn't want him to go hungry," Mrs. Brief thought aloud as she passed the dumplings to Bulma.

The blue-haired woman served herself some of the dumplings and shrugged. "I don't think that's necessary. He'll probably be in to eat later, Mom." She wasn't as certain as she tried to sound for her mother's benefit. The mercurial saiyan had a habit of running away when he was made excessively uncomfortable or upset, which he definitely had been that afternoon. She knew he was still training in the gravity room because she could hear the simulator running, but once he was done training no one knew if he would take off or stick around.

"I suppose you're right, sweetie," Mrs. Brief agreed, her voice more cheerful again. "He's so dedicated to his training he probably didn't want to stop just yet."

Bulma and Dr. Brief nodded at that. They were constantly impressed with the saiyan's endurance and somewhat self-destructive tendencies as he aspired to reach greater levels of power. Going hungry for an hour or two was the least of his problems, most likely. Despite their admiration for his work ethic, they had all become a little concerned with the amount of time he spent each day locked up in the gravity chamber. He was there when they woke up in the morning and there when they went to bed at night. They weren't sure he slept at all.

"That boy had better take a day off soon," Dr. Brief commented after a while. "He's been training almost non-stop for the past month. It's obvious that he's progressing, but without rest he'll start backsliding eventually."

Bulma sighed and set her fork down, her appetite having fled completely. "I know, Dad. He's overdoing it, but nothing will make him stop unless he's unconscious or dead." She excused herself and went up to her bedroom. She was emotionally drained and her body felt heavy with fatigue as she fell onto her bed and rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling.

The day after she left him sleeping in the library she had gone up to the attic and taken his clothes back to his guestroom and went to the store to buy replacements of his toiletries, but she didn't know if her efforts had been worth doing. She had never seen him going in or out of the room and never heard him at night and didn't dare go in there without him inviting her first. She had told him that the room was his to use and all this things were returned, but he showed no reaction. Pillows, towels, cushions, and blankets had gone missing around the compound again, but he might have made another nest anywhere. That gave her hope that he was at least sleeping, but just because he had a nest didn't mean he used it. He _did_ always look exhausted. Bulma dozed off as she thought about the saiyan.

Despite what Bulma thought he was doing, Vegeta was actually in the gravity room tending to the injuries he'd sustained during his training. He kept the gravity on as a means of forcing his body to adjust to it, but he was busy cleaning the cuts and pulling the small pieces of metal out of his skin, wincing when they went deeper into his muscles. Blood was streaming down his body by the time he had all the metal out, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him. Blood loss was a part of life.

He spat the last piece of metal out that he had to dig out with his teeth before leaning back against the console. He was exhausted after his frenetic workout after Bulma came in to check on him. He wanted to quit and drag himself to his room to get some much-needed sleep, but he wasn't going to allow himself to wimp out. He twisted around and pulled the emergency first aid kit out of the compartment in under the console and opened it. Hopefully it would still have enough supplies in it. He'd used it more often than he would ever admit.

There were hardly any bandages left and the tube of antibiotic ointment was empty. He growled and threw the first aid kit against the wall and watched with grim satisfaction as the contents exploded across the gravity room. Nothing ever seemed to go right for him. He banged his head against the console a few times before forcing himself to his feet to resume his training. At least his body would be able to start healing itself now that the metal was removed.

Sweat stung his wounds as it intermingled with blood as he pushed himself to his breaking point. He was relentless in his drive to regain his past strength and come back stronger than ever. He'd lost seven months and had to make up for it tenfold. He would not be outdone by the third-class trash and he would not be killed by some ridiculous tin cans. He roared as he forced his aching body on. He would not give up.

'It's been a month and this is all the progress I've made to show for it? This is pathetic! I am the Prince of all Saiyans!' Vegeta allowed his thoughts to rekindle the fires of anger that fueled him when he was too tired to keep going. When beating himself up physically became too difficult he would beat himself up mentally until he would rather take more physical beating. It was an endless cycle from which he would not escape. He would never be content with his status. He had to constantly push himself to be greater even when he was the best. Now that he was far from being the strongest, he was even harder on himself. He made himself miserable, but misery was familiar and therefore comfortable. Not like the ridiculous feelings the blue-haired woman ignited in him.

Bulma was disoriented when she opened her eyes to see a dark room with shadows looming on the ceiling but gathered her bearings quickly. She yawned and stretched out on the bed before glancing at the clock. It was after midnight. She groaned when she saw the time and sat up on the edge of the bed, figuring she should change and brush her teeth before going back to sleep.

She pulled her clothes off and slipped into a lace chemise that reached halfway down her thighs. She went to her bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair before going back into her room and crawling into bed. She heaved a deep sigh and pulled the covers up to her chin. As she set her alarm she suddenly became aware of a strange noise – or lack thereof. The gravity simulator was off. She leaped out of bed and shrugged on a short silk robe as she ran across her room and cracked the door open. Not seeing anyone, she stepped out into the hall and tiptoed down to Vegeta's room and pressed her ear against the door.

"Go back to your room, Woman," a low voice growled from inside. She jumped and backpedaled back to her bedroom, blushing deeply. But when she was stepping over the threshold into her room, she rediscovered her determination to stick with him and whirled around and marched back to his door and knocked three times.

"Can I talk to you, please?" she asked through the door when she got no invitation in.

She heard heavy footsteps approaching the door before it swung open. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and glared down his nose at her. "Well what do you want?" he barked when she stood gaping at him. It was hard to miss the cuts – some rather deep – littering his chest and arms. It looked as though he barely made it alive out of a warzone. Granted, he made the gravity room into a sort of warzone every time he went in there for his training. She would worry about that later, though.

Bulma snapped her mouth shut and crossed her arms in a mirror image of his stance. "I just wanted to tell you that what happened today, in the gravity room, it didn't mean…" She stopped mid-sentence. She wanted to tell him that it didn't mean anything, it was a fluke, an accident, something that would never happen again, that it was disgusting, appalling, revolting to even think about, that he tasted terrible, she didn't like how his lips felt, and she was ashamed of herself for wanting to kiss him in the first place. But she couldn't. None of that was true.

Vegeta's eyebrow raised in her silence as he waited for her to finish. He expected her to say that she would never do it again. That she realized what a mistake it was to want anything to do with him. To say that she saw what an ass he was and that she would be horrified to want anything more from him than she already had. But she didn't. And he hoped it wasn't true, even if he knew better than to think like that.

"It's just. I'm sorry," Bulma continued. "Not sorry that I did it. Sorry that I misjudged." Her voice was so soft he had a hard time hearing her. He wasn't sure he heard her right when she finished speaking.

"Woman…"

She cut him off. "It won't happen again, Vegeta. Not if you don't want it to."

For the second time that day he was struck speechless. Not if he didn't want it? That wasn't fair. Of course he wanted it! He longed to taste her again, to take it further, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. He wouldn't. No. He had decided that long ago. He knew already that she desired him, but he wouldn't take advantage of that. It was his duty to protect her, even if he was protecting her from himself, so he couldn't give her what she wanted, what he wanted. His mind was in turmoil as one side raged against the other. Instincts were demanding he take her, instincts were ordering him to protect her. It was becoming painful as his thoughts whirled around in his head at blinding speeds and still he reached no conclusion. Desire or honor? Were they mutually exclusive? He slapped his hands against his temples and clenched his teeth as he felt dizzy from the conflicting feelings, emotions, instincts, desires. It was like nothing he had ever felt before and it was maddening.

"Vegeta? Are you ok?"

The blue-haired angel's soft, sweet voice was the last straw. He doubled over in mental agony and roared with pain and frustration. He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know what he should do and she wasn't making it any easier on him. Why did she have to be so beautiful? Accepting, loving? Why did she have to desire him? He hated her for it all but he lusted after her for it. Lust. That's what he felt, he was sure of it. It felt different than any lust he had ever had before, but that was what it had to be. There was nothing honorable in that.

Bulma put her small hand on his back and rubbed gently as he shuddered with some pain she couldn't ease. She squeaked in surprise when his strong arms wrapped around her waist and he nuzzled into her belly as he dropped to his knees. "Vegeta?"

"It isn't honorable. It isn't. You can't ask this of me, Woman. Don't do this to me." He raised his head to look up into her deep blue eyes and a wave of guilt and shame washed over him as he was again faced with her purity. He groaned and buried his face into her again and kept mumbling over and over, "There is no honor in this, I have to protect you."

Bulma was bewildered by the callous saiyan's behavior. She didn't know what he was talking about or why he was so upset. Was it something she said? Something she did? He never explained himself so she didn't know what his problem was. All she knew was that she wanted to help him but she was helpless in her ignorance. So she just cooed comforting words to him and stroked his flame of hair and held his head close to her body.

Vegeta's mumbling died down a while later and he raised his head to look up at her again. Her pure blue depths looked back and he nearly drowned in them before he averted his eyes and leaned against her. His tail wrapped around his thigh and his cheeks flushed pink as he thought about his behavior. So juvenile, so weak. He wanted to beat himself for it, but it was done and she had witnessed it all. Like she had witnessed him losing control of himself so many times before.

"What do you have to protect me from, Vegeta?" the blue-haired woman asked softly.

He sat back on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. She recognized him taking up the defense and shouted at him mentally to open up to her this one time. "Myself," he murmured.

She was struck dumb at that answer. It was the last thing she had expected him to say, that was for sure. "There's nothing to protect me from there, 'Geta." She knelt down in front of him and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand gently.

Vegeta shook his head and took her hand in both of his and moved it away. "You don't know what you're talking about, Woman. I am bad for you. I would only end up hurting you." He sighed and forced his gaze up to meet hers. "You should not have become attached to me."

Bulma frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not true. You only hurt me by pushing me away. And I'm attached to you because you're my pack mate. End of story."

"I'm not part of your pack anymore. I'm a loner, forever."

"You're only a loner if you want to be one," Bulma argued. "Because you're welcome in my pack any time. We want you in our pack, Vegeta. It's not the same without you."

Vegeta rubbed the back of his neck and looked away again. He thought they held him in contempt since he had left again. He had left the blue-haired woman in tears and terror after telling her that he had raped women in his past. He thought – knew – she hated him after she learned that and was thoroughly surprised when she forgave him anyway. But he had never thought that she would welcome him with open arms back into the pack. A unit where the members trusted one another fully, depended on them, protected them. What reason had he given them to accept him as one of their own? He pushed them away over and over, left on long trips with no explanation, hid his secrets from them. Nothing made sense to him anymore. Nothing.

"But I thought..."

"Whatever you thought was wrong. You're one of us, like it or not. Once a pack mate, always a pack mate, right?" Bulma smiled at him and stroked his cheek again, ignoring his flinch. There had to be some way to convince him that she was sincere.

This time he leaned into her caress and she could see him visibly relax. "That still changes nothing between us," he told her slowly. "I hurt. No one I have ever been close to hasn't been hurt by me. I won't let that happen to you."

"I have news for you, Vegeta. You're already close to me, pack mate. What difference does it make if we have a different type of relationship?"

"A lot," he replied. "More intimacy with me would steal away your innocence." He couldn't look her in the eye as he told her this. It was hard enough to voice his reasoning; he was terribly embarrassed to let her know what he really thought about her. "I am darkness, you are light. I would destroy you."

Bulma lifted his chin to search his ebony orbs for his feelings. He resisted at first, but then sighed and allowed her to drown him with her pools of clearest blue. She saw shame, hesitation, and determination. It broke her heart when she realized he was serious in what he said. He thought he would break her, ruin her. He thought he would bring her down because he wasn't worthy of her. "Darkness can never overcome light," she whispered, "because light will always shine in the darkness. Don't worry about me, Vegeta. You're changing, I can see it. I know it. That's why I trust you. You're not a monster, you're not evil, not anymore. You're already coming into the light and leaving darkness behind. I can help you."

"But darkness follows me."

"And you'll destroy it."

A corner of Vegeta's mouth quirked into a hint of a smirk at her confidence in his ability to defeat any adversary he met, even if it was his own past. Her confidence was infectious and he started to believe that maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he thought himself to be. He had changed himself when he decided to be more like the saiyans of old. He had rejected the evil ways taught to him by the lizard. Did that make him worthy of her?

He still wasn't sure. "If anything bad happens…"

"It'll be on my head," she finished for him. "I want this, Vegeta. I know you do too. Do what feels right for a change instead of trying to reason your way out of it."

What felt right to him? His inner conflict was dying down. He tried to listen to what his instincts were telling him. They had yet to lead him wrong. He closed his eyes and quieted his mind until there was only one voice left whispering in the depths of his soul.

_A/N: So I said a few chapters ago that I wasn't going to do daily updates for a while. Now, I don't want you all to think I'm a liar, so I'm not going to update for a few days. (I know, you hate me, especially since I'm choosing to stop right here. Call me evil. I won't deny it.) All joking aside, I'm not going to update for a while because I'm going to be incredibly busy and this has to move down on my to-do list. I'm really sorry. Send me angry, protesting reviews._

_By the way, for those of you keeping track… Trunks was supposed to be born one year before the androids came… … I'll let you figure out what that means._

_Song: "I Want You" by Savage Garden_


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

_It was, it really was such a kiss__  
__Just the thought of her lips__  
__Sets me afire__  
__I reminisce and I'm filled with desire__  
__But I'd gave my heart to her in sweet surrender_

Vegeta's tail moved from his leg and wrapped tightly around Bulma's waist and drew her closer to him. He put his arms around her and pulled her flush against his body and lowered his head until his lips brushed against hers, so softly it felt like a feather. He could smell her desire, her happiness and taste her sweet, salty flavor. And her eyes, her cerulean pools, were gazing into his onyx eyes with an emotion he could not name.

Bulma shifted so she was straddling his legs and pressed her forehead against his. She was falling into the black fires of his eyes as she watched emotions flicker through them. One hand moved up to his mane of hair and the other wrapped around his neck as she kissed him again more forcefully. This time he responded in kind and she felt his warmth spreading through her body, setting her on fire with desire for the alien prince. She parted her lips and Vegeta accepted the invitation, sliding his tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness.

He heard her soft moan and felt like an explosion went off in the pit of his stomach as excitement and desire coursed through his veins. He explored her mouth with his tongue and almost smirked when she fought for dominance. Always a power struggle between them, but he wouldn't lose this time. He pulled back and licked her lips before gently chewing her bottom lip. Her taste was intoxicating and he couldn't get enough of it. He deepened the kiss until their lips were crushed together almost painfully and he tried to get even closer to her. He inhaled her scent and pressed her body harder against his and almost passed out from sensory overload. She was too much, she was everything good, she was his.

Bulma allowed him to pull her robe off and sighed with desire as he started trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck and shoulder. She stroked his hair as he kissed down lower, following the neckline of her chemise with his lips. When he reached her other shoulder he moved back up her neck and went back to her mouth, chewing and sucking her lip. She moaned into his mouth and pushed her tongue into his mouth for a more passionate kiss.

Vegeta moved his rough hands down to her hips and squeezed gently before pushing the hem of her chemise up a little to test her boundaries. Before he had gotten very far her hands moved down to his to stop him, which he reluctantly did. He would never push her to do more than she wanted to, no matter how much it maddened him. He knew she was able to feel his excitement with the way she was sitting on his lap, but she didn't seem to mind. He kissed down her neck again and moved one hand up to hook a finger under a strap and slide it down her shoulder as he kissed, licked, and nipped her milky white skin.

"Don't tease," she breathed when he brushed his lips over her chest. She was at war with herself trying to decide how far to let him go. She was burning with passion and was afraid they would go too far if they took it further now. But she wanted it so badly it was hurting her to resist.

Vegeta chuckled, his warm breath dancing across her burning flesh. Much to her dismay he pulled the strap back up on her shoulder and nuzzled into her neck. "Perhaps it would be better to stop now, Woman," his deep voice rumbled. His hands moved down and rubbed her thighs as he kissed her cheek.

Bulma shook her head and hugged him tightly. "No, I don't want to stop."

"That's why we should," he replied without hesitation. He didn't want her to know how much he hated himself for saying that, but he would not dishonor himself or her by taking advantage of their lust. Neither of them was ready for more, of that he was certain. He didn't know much about earthling courtship, but he knew that, in normal relationships, a male and female did not mate right away. Even if they did, saiyans didn't, so he wasn't going to.

The woman sighed and nodded sadly. She kissed his lips and ran her fingers through his mane. "I understand."

Vegeta stood up, picking her up with him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "It's late. You should sleep," he told her as he opened the door to take her back to her bedroom. He knew that if she stayed with him much longer he wouldn't be able to fight back his lust and he would do the one thing he would regret above anything else.

As if on cue Bulma yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess so. Can't I stay here with you tonight?"

He froze for a few seconds before shaking his head and going down the hall to her room. He opened the door and took her in, laying her down on her bed and pulling the covers up over her. "Not tonight," he purred, "It wouldn't be safe." He nuzzled into her neck to inhale her scent once more and backed away, keeping his eyes on her as long as he could. She yawned and stretched before smiling at him sleepily.

"Night, 'Geta," she mumbled as she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

Vegeta looked at her another moment before nodding and walking out. It was an awkward goodnight, but he did not feel comfortable with such pleasantries. Anyway, it was time for a cold shower. A freezing cold, hour-long shower if need be. He shuddered thinking about it when he got into his room and shut the door behind him. He pulled his training shorts off and held his chin high as he went to face his self-imposed torture.

As the icy water ran down his back he was surprised that he didn't feel regret for his actions or a loss of pride. Every part of him was singing its agreement with the rightness of his choice; the old saiyan inside was laughing smugly in its victory over the new and Vegeta felt _more_ honorable to know that he had done what he _should _have done for a change. He was still wary of the consequences – what if the woman rejected him? Changed her mind? Hated him? He had laid himself open to attack, made himself vulnerable to her. But this didn't upset him. He found himself wanting to do it again and again. His instincts were egging him on and there was little he could do to satisfy them other than follow their lead. The saiyan was, in fact, satisfied with his decision to accept the woman's advances and proud of himself for showing restraint.

Convinced that he had calmed himself down as much as he was ever going to, Vegeta turned the water off and got out of the shower. He dried himself with a warm flare of ki and went into his room to put on a pair of boxers and get some sleep. It was late, after one in the morning, and he wanted to be up again in less than four hours. He yawned at the thought and crawled into his nest that was slowly rebuilding and nuzzled into the pillows, drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes. And that night he dreamed of aqua hair, azure eyes, and pristine ivory skin.

At 5:00AM Vegeta's eyes cracked open and took in the sight of his gray room, the first light of dawn peeking in through his balcony doors. He knew the sun would not even be above the horizon and groaned out his tiredness. Stretching, he sat up and pushed the covers off himself, stood up, and went to change into his training shorts. He was not overly enthusiastic about training the day away as his aching body was arguing with his will with every movement he made. He tried to ignore the soreness as he went downstairs. He stopped before he went on to the gravity room. Why train inside? He still had the micro-gravity simulator he could use while training outside. Maybe a change of scenery would help get his mind distracted enough to ignore the aches and pains that only grew with time. The saiyan went back up to his room and retrieved the minute device before going outdoors to train on the front lawn.

At 5:30AM Bulma's eyes fluttered open and watched the morning light shimmering on her ceiling. As she had taken to doing daily, she pulled herself out of bed and went out onto her balcony to watch the sun rising with her. The eastern sky was tinged pink and gold, breaking through the grayness of pre-dawn light. Bulma leaned against the rail and breathed in the scent of dewy grass, felt the cool morning air brushing against her skin, listened to the birds chirping in the trees and… something growling? Her eyes snapped open wide and she leaned over the rail to see down below. There, in the yard, was the flame-haired saiyan fighting another invisible opponent. It was a routine she didn't understand but it was enchanting to watch all the same.

With a final roar Vegeta slammed his elbow down into the soft grass and rose back to his feet, eyes refocused on his surroundings as his past opponent was again defeated in his mind. He had the feeling that he was being watched and whirled around in a circle, searching for the unknown onlooker before he directed his gaze upward. He saw the golden rays of the sun shining on a crown of cerulean hair.

Bulma backpedaled when she saw that she had his attention. She hoped watching didn't count as interrupting his training since he got really cranky when he was interrupted. She backed up against the sliding door and watched with some trepidation as the saiyan rose up and landed on the rail in front of her. She gulped and lifted her gaze to look into his obsidian eyes. "Morning, Vegeta," she mumbled lamely.

"Hn." Vegeta hopped down on her balcony and strode over to her and buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply. "What are you afraid of, Woman?" he breathed in her ear, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing down her spine.

"N-nothing," she sighed as he started nipping her neck. "I just didn't want to disrupt your training."

He roughly grabbed her hips and hoisted her onto the rail of the balcony and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm taking a break." He licked her lips and worked himself in between her legs so he could feel her tiny body pressed against his. Then he covered her mouth with his own and started devouring her in a feverish kiss.

Bulma was sure she had died and gone to heaven. There was no way the saiyan prince would have done such an incredible turnaround in one night, going from cold and distant to a passionate lover. Ok, so they hadn't done more than kissing, but she was sure that if his kissing was any sign of what he was capable of in bed, he was unrivaled in the pleasure department. She put her legs around his waist and drew him in closer, needing to feel his warmth against her cool skin. When she felt his calloused fingers running through her silky hair she about died. Who knew he was capable of being so tender?

Vegeta pulled back and held her chin in his hand as he probed her deep blue eyes with his onyx orbs. Her clear pools were clouded over with desire, begging him to continue what he had started. He smirked and kissed her once more, softly.

"Aren't you going to go jog?" he asked casually when he pulled back again.

She was flabbergasted. How he could expect her to want to go for a stupid old jog after _that_ was beyond her comprehension. She wanted to stay right there with him and never let him out of her grasp. She shook her head. "Only if you go too. I bet you can't even keep up with me now." She winked at him and stuck out her tongue.

The saiyan snapped at her tongue and chuckled when she jerked back, nearly losing her balance on the rail and falling backwards. "Don't be ridiculous, Woman," he said smugly as he took a step back from her. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her disappointment at his distance. His eyes roamed her body, pausing momentarily between her spread legs. He felt the stirrings of desire in his own gut and had to rip his gaze away from her. He could feel blood rushing to his face when he realized what he was doing.

"You're just scared I'll outrun you," she teased as she slid off the rail and brushed her hand against his abs as she walked past him. Her touch felt like fire between them, which startled both of them. Pretending not to notice it, she shot a challenging look over her shoulder before going back into her room to change into shorts and a tank top.

Vegeta huffed and leaned against the rail, listening to the sounds of her dressing inside. The animal inside howled for him to go in and take her as his thoughts mucked through the gutter, but his reasoning told him firmly to restrain himself. He was not _just_ an animal and would not act like one. No self-respecting saiyan would.

Bulma came back out on the balcony wearing obscenely short shorts that barely covered anything and a skin-tight low-cut tank top. Vegeta's reasoning wavered, his animal clawed at its cage. 'This woman is sadistic,' he thought as he turned away, his face flushing and tail wrapping around his leg and twitching agitatedly.

"Something wrong, 'Geta?" she asked with a suggestive quirk of the eyebrow. She subtly thrust her chest forward and walked with an exaggerated swing of the hips.

He rounded on her and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You do not have to act like a common whore to impress me, Woman. You are already mine." He pulled her flush against him and sniffed her strawberry scented hair with a low growl of pleasure.

To say Bulma was embarrassed would be an understatement. To say she was indignant wouldn't do her justice. "Acting like a whore? I was not!" she yelled when she found her voice.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and dropped his hands down to the hem of her shorts and traced them with his fingers. "Of course not," he said sardonically, "How foolish of me to think it unusual for you to wear such garments."

"So what if I want to wear this?" she countered vehemently. "It's not abnormal for girls to wear clothes like these. And anyway, what do you mean I'm yours? I don't belong to you, I'm not your servant!"

"No," he agreed, "You are much more than a servant, Woman. But you are still mine because I have chosen you. Saiyans. Don't. Share." He nipped her ear before adding, "Once you decided to get involved with me, you walked into something that's damn hard to get out of." His hands slid up her sides, over her shoulders, and down to the small of her back.

Bulma swallowed hard and leaned against him when her knees threatened to give out. Had it been a mistake to pursue him? What if it didn't work out but she couldn't get out of it? Commitment was not exactly her strong point. How many times had she broken up with Yamcha when they were dating? More times than she could count. But breaking it off with Vegeta would be different. Impossible. She knew that when he put any effort into anything, he didn't give up on it, and she had finally goaded him into putting effort into their relationship, whatever it was. But now she was scared and excited. Either she had dug herself an early grave or made the best decision of her life. Despite her apprehension, she truly believed it was the latter.

Still, that didn't give him the right to tell her she was acting like a whore! Her anger rose again when she remembered that comment. She wasn't acting like a whore, she was acting like a girl who wanted to… impress her boyfriend? Yamcha had always liked such displays. But Vegeta was fundamentally different from her ex-boyfriend. He told her that she didn't need to work to impress him by such methods. She was his. His chosen one. Her anger melted away as her heart fluttered and butterflies abounded in her stomach. She didn't need to impress him because she already had, and not with her superficial beauty, money, or prestige.

She tilted her head up and captured his lips in a kiss as her hands roamed across his broad back and shoulders. A nervousness he did not even know he felt was released when she accepted his claim on her. He exhaled slowly in her mouth and wrapped his tail around her thigh as he deepened their kiss. He was addicted to her unique flavor and never wanted to stop tasting her. He was drunk off her scent and taste.

"So you'll come with me?" she whispered when they broke apart for air. The saiyan nodded and leaned in for another brush of his lips against hers and gently bit her lip before forcing himself away from her.

He gave her a mischievous grin before diving off the balcony, leaving her behind. She ran to the rail and looked down on the ground where he was strolling toward the front gate. "Hey! Vegeta!" she yelled, sure he had simply forgotten she couldn't do that without killing herself. He gave her a quick glance full of amusement over his shoulder and turned away again. Grumbling, Bulma stomped back inside, through her room, into the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door. She found him casually leaning against the gate and scowled at him.

Vegeta chuckled when he saw her fuming at him and swished his tail between them playfully when she reached him. "Something wrong, Woman?" he quipped, mocking her earlier question.

Bulma slapped his tail away and crossed her arms over her chest, inadvertently pushing her breasts together in a tantalizing display for the saiyan. "What did you do that for, you big jerk?" she hissed.

The prince shrugged and a smug grin spread across his face. "Consider it payback for your lewd behavior."

She snorted. "Whatever, let's go." She opened the gate and they walked out.

They still had half an hour before breakfast when they walked back onto the grounds of Capsule Corp. Bulma was vaguely irritated that even Vegeta in his 'weak' state was still able to keep up with her without any trouble. The only sign that he wasn't as strong as he had once been, aside from his more lithe physique – which was quickly filling out – was his heavier sweating by the end of their jog. It was just as well that she didn't know how sore and exhausted he was physically or she may have been even more upset at the apparent ease with which he jogged.

Inside the compound Bulma stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before going up to her room to shower and change. Mrs. Brief was standing in front of the stove flipping pancakes when her daughter came in and gave a cheerful 'good morning.' It was so nice to have the nice young man back who ate so much; it made cooking that much more enjoyable since she knew it would be appreciated, even if thanks were never given. And so every morning she rose bright and early and was never seen in less than a great mood. Bulma gave a relatively cheerful 'good morning' in return, groaning inside at her mother's early morning energy. The lack of sleep she had gotten was starting to catch up and she was thinking it might be better to sleep through breakfast than to eat. And yet, she wouldn't give up that time spent with Vegeta, even if he was too busy stuffing his face to talk.

"Did you have a nice jog, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked as she poured more batter onto the griddle.

Bulma smiled brightly and nodded. "Yeah, Vegeta went with me again today. It's a lot more fun when I have company." She giggled to herself and left the kitchen to go shower.

'Company' was an interesting term to use for the saiyan, considering he had done more than just jog alongside her. When she finally slowed to a walk he yanked her to him with his tail around her waist and bared his teeth at anyone passing by them who so much as looked at her. She was sure that whenever a man went by he was going to pounce on them and rip their throats out. She didn't even know what kind of relationship they had now, but he was acting extremely possessive. Had it been Yamcha, she would have felt smothered and been angry with him, but for some reason it was endearing the way he protected what was his. His…something. Girlfriend? She figured he wouldn't like that term. Mate? No, they weren't mated – yet. Bulma really had no idea what they should call each other, so she didn't mention their new relationship.

She took a quick shower and changed into a pair of denim shorts and red halter top. As she looked herself over in the mirror she smiled. It was nice being able to work at home and not worry about looking 'professional' every day. She did when she went in to her office at headquarters, but that wasn't more than once or twice a week recently. There were many perks to being vice president, daughter of the president, of the largest corporation in the world.

Down in the kitchen Bulma found a tail sticking out from behind the refrigerator door and her mother still busily flipping pancakes while occasionally stirring the scrambled eggs around in the skillet. She shook her head in amazement at her mother's ability to multi-task, at least in the household duties department. As she walked to the cupboard to get a glass for her orange juice, Bulma smacked the saiyan's backside playfully and received a retaliating smack from his tail.

"Hey, 'Geta, could you get the orange juice out while you're in there?" she asked as she pulled herself up onto the counter with glass in hand. She heard a grunt from the depths of the refrigerator and giggled. She stopped herself after a while when she realized she was starting to turn into a giggling little schoolgirl who got asked out by her first crush. She jumped when the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice slammed down on the counter, splashing a little. The saiyan, however, had not emerged and there was the ongoing sound of jars and bottles clinking against each other as he searched through the inventory of food and drinks.

Bulma poured the orange juice into her glass and took a sip of it. "You want some too, your highness?" There was a grunt she took as a no and then the jug of milk slammed down on the counter next to the pitcher of juice. She shrugged and twisted around to grab another glass from the cupboard and filled it with milk. "Here you go!" she chimed as she held it out toward the refrigerator.

Finally the flame-haired saiyan backed out of the fridge holding a sack of peaches, a large block of cheddar cheese, a jar of blackberry jam, and a loaf of bread. There was a banana hanging out of his mouth, peel and all, that he must have started snacking on as he decided what else to eat as his pre-breakfast appetizer.

He set his plunder on the counter and hopped up next to the blue-haired woman and finished the banana before starting on the peaches and cheese. He ate in silence as he watched the blonde preparing breakfast. When he had first come to stay at the compound she would get upset with him for eating before the meal was cooked, but when she saw how it didn't ruin his appetite in the least, she stopped complaining about the habit. If anything, he seemed to eat more at breakfast when he had a small snack beforehand. How that worked no one knew, but they chalked up to his strange saiyan physiology and left it at that.

Bulma watched as he popped the lid off the jar of jam and stuck his hand in it before spreading the jam on a slice of bread. She wrinkled her nose at the saiyan's unsanitary behavior but shrugged when she figured out there wouldn't be any jam left after his snack anyway. Once the loaf of bread and jam were ingested he licked his hand and tossed the jar into the trash.

"You realize that's disgusting, right?" she asked when he started chugging his milk.

His eyes darted over to hers with eyebrows raised, but he didn't stop drinking until the glass was emptied. He set it down on the counter and shoved it toward her. "There is nothing disgusting about drinking milk," he verbally shrugged. He didn't understand what her problem was. After all, she drank milk too, who was she to judge?

She refilled his glass and pushed it back to him. "That's not what I meant." She just laughed and shook her head at the questioning look he gave her as he accepted the milk and started gulping it down.

Dr. Brief came into the kitchen holding his morning paper and heard the houseguest and his daughter teasing each other about their gross habits and chuckled. Sometimes they really didn't act their age, the way they bantered like children. It was plain as day to him the way they seemed to bring out the best – and worst – in each other. Bulma always seemed so much happier when he was around and he sometimes dropped his churlishness when in her presence. They were inarguably attracted to one another in some way even if they didn't realize it. If it had been any other man, Dr. Brief might have felt the need to put his foot down and stop any budding romance, but he liked and trusted the alien prince, even if he was rough around the edges. He just hoped that he would give up his tendency to pick up and leave at the drop of a hat if he got more involved with his daughter.

"Morning, dear," he mumbled as he pecked his daughter's cheek in his usual greeting. "Have a nice jog?" When Bulma nodded he smiled and turned around to greet his bubbly wife in much the same way while Scratch meowed her good mornings to all.

When they sat down to start breakfast, Vegeta's tail snaked under the table and coiled around Bulma's thigh. She grinned at him but he had his face buried in his leaning tower of pancakes and didn't see her acknowledgement of his tail's action. The family eased into their usual routine, with Dr. Brief reading and occasionally commenting on the newspaper, Mrs. Brief babbling about the 'interesting' things she was going to do that day, and Bulma sometimes inserting a reply to her parents' monologues. Through it all Vegeta quietly wolfed down his immense portion of food, which everyone was glad to see increasing each day.

Along with eating more, the Briefs could see that Vegeta's gaunt look was fading; his finely sculpted muscles were returning, his bones losing prominence in his exaggeratedly sharp features, the pallor of his skin darkening into his healthy olive tone, and his clothes fitting better after seeing them hanging off him like a scarecrow only a couple weeks before. None of them could believe the state his body was in when he was brought back to Capsule Corp after a seven month absence. It was impossible to imagine someone who seemed to love food so much purposely starving himself for any reason. But as with any other physical ailment he had, he was recovering rapidly, putting human physiology to shame with its slow repairs.

Vegeta stood up when he was finished eating, unwrapping his tail from the blue-haired woman's leg and returning it to its relaxed position around his waist. Without a word he left the kitchen and went out the front door of the compound to continue his training. As he went through some kata, his body became increasingly unresponsive to his commands. He growled in frustration when he tried a high side kick and nearly fell over as he lost his balance. He shook his head and checked the gravity simulator on his wrist. Only 230Gs, a slight increase from yesterday. With a roar he threw himself back into his kata, trying his hardest to move his sluggish muscles smoothly.

Bulma was walking to her lab when she heard the saiyan roar outside. Puzzled, she ran into the living room where she could see him training and gasped when he erupted with a blue aura that almost immediately fizzled out and he fell to the ground breathing and sweating hard.

'Now he's gone and done it,' she thought as she turned on her heel and headed for the nearest door. 'He's finally pushed himself too hard and probably hurt himself badly.'

Vegeta lay still in the grass, panting and staring up at the clear blue June sky. 'Maybe I need to rest a while,' he thought with a groan of exhausted pain. 'A true warrior knows when to rest instead of train. Not that I've always remembered that…' He pushed himself up to his elbows with a low grunt and shook his head. His determination to regain his power was surely going to be the death of him if it didn't hurry up and happen soon.

His head snapped to the side when he heard the door of the compound slamming shut and quick footsteps approaching him. He laid back in the grass when he saw the woman running toward him and turned the gravity simulator off. His body felt immediate relief and he took a deep breath with his unburdened lungs.

"Vegeta!" Bulma called as she came up to him. "Are you ok? What happened? Are you hurt?" She plopped down on the ground next to him and put her tiny hands on his chest and started feeling around for any damage.

The saiyan suppressed the purr that tried to resonate through his chest when he felt her tender touch. While it had never affected him before, it was driving him crazy with longing now that he had accepted his attraction to her. "I'm not hurt," he muttered. "Just exhausted."

Bulma nodded slowly, breathing a sigh of relief as her hands continued rubbing his sweaty chest. "You should rest."

"I will." In a flash Bulma was lying on her back with a smirking saiyan on top of her. "And you're going to take the day off with me." He leaned forward so his face was only inches from hers.

"I have to work, 'Geta," she protested weakly. Really the idea of a day off was appealing, especially if the day would be passed with him. She tilted her chin up a little, expecting him to plant another mind-blowing kiss on her lips, but he only smirked wider until his sharp canines were bared in a feral grin.

"You belong to me now, Woman," he whispered, "so you will listen to what I say."

Bulma's stomach flip-flopped with desire and excitement when she heard him claim her in his low, sexy voice. Any arguments she may have had died in her throat and she dumbly nodded her head in resignation to his will. Never before had she allowed herself to be dominated by anyone else, but then no one else had ever been capable of making her lose her ability to think for herself. Vegeta's commanding presence had a strong effect on her, and since she had fallen in love with him it was even more powerful.

Wait. When did she fall _in love_ with Vegeta? She was in love with an alien? As in, an alien from outer space? Her mind reeled with that idea. But there was no getting around it. She hadn't been sure before, but after he finally reciprocated her advances, she was certain that love was what she felt for him. A passionate, burning love unlike any she had ever known before. It made the juvenile love she had for Yamcha pale in comparison. This love was real, the most real thing she had ever known. There was desire, but more importantly a deep-seated commitment to him and a need to know him more intimately. To know his thoughts and secrets. And there was a need to share herself with him, to lay herself bare to him in return.

"Good," his deep voice rumbled through the deepest recesses of her mind. Then he finally kissed her, sending bolts of pleasure through her body.

_A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!_

_Song: "Such a Night" by Elvis Presley_


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

_Copacetic, calm my frenetic, she's the shit y'all  
Highly-rated, well-educated, she's an angel  
She's ambitious, beautiful, delicious, got a restaurant  
I can take it, truth stripped me naked, yeah I fucked up, yeah_

"Can't catch me!"

Slam!

Bulma ran across the lawn of Capsule Corp after leaving the saiyan behind inside. She laughed as she ran and dove into the swimming pool. Or, that's what she had planned on doing, but while she was still in the air she was snatched away from the pool by two strong arms wrapped around her waist. She yelped and laughed as she was set back on the ground. She tilted her head up to see the smug expression on the saiyan prince's face. That same expression that kindled her anger so many times before now made her feel weak in the knees.

"Can't catch you, Woman? You're slower than an intergalactic slug."

Bulma slapped his shoulder. "Maybe if you wouldn't use your freakishly superhuman powers I'd have a chance," she pouted.

"Oh really?" he asked, unconvinced, as he leaned forward and bit her protruding lower lip gently and sucked it.

"Uh huh." Bulma leaned into him, which may not have been a good idea because he suddenly disappeared and she fell forward ungracefully into the pool. She broke through the surface sputtering and gasping for air while she wiped her wet hair out of her face. "Vegeta!" she yelled as she looked around for the saiyan. "You're going to get it now!"

She hardly had time to inhale again before she was dragged under the water by a hand gripping her ankle. She twisted around to see the flame-haired saiyan grinning at her as he pulled her through the water. Her lungs were starting to burn when he finally let her up for air. She gulped in oxygen greedily as she again wiped her hair out of her eyes. "Damnit, are you trying to drown me?" she gasped. She headed for the closest edge of the pool to get out of the freezing cold water.

"If I were trying, I wouldn't have stopped," a low voice purred in her ear from behind. That damned voice could get through her toughest defenses. When she heard it she was unable to think about anything but how much she wanted to hear more of it. A small sigh escaped her lips as the saiyan's hands grabbed her hips and pulled her back against his chest as he nipped her neck and shoulder.

Bulma was learning that playing with a full-blooded saiyan was dangerous business. While Vegeta had never really hurt her, there were times the fun was lost on her when he decided to roughhouse. Holding her underwater until she thought she was going to drown was not pleasant, in her opinion, though he didn't seem to see the problem with it. If there was any sort of competition, such as when playing pool or chess, it was unsafe to win because he might throw a fit. He was as much a sore loser as she was, only more violent. When they did something like swim or play tag in the yard, he would pounce on her, tackle her, roll around on the ground, and pin her down with his immense weight. It reminded her of playing with an animal that didn't know its own strength; what was normal for him was painful or uncomfortable for her. So far she didn't have any bruises to show for it, but she hoped he would learn quickly that she wasn't as durable as a saiyan and needed to be treated with care.

She groaned when he bit a little too hard and tried to move away from him. But his hold on her was unrelenting. At least he didn't bite too hard again, having taken the hint that he needed to take it easy on her. She figured he was probably mocking her human weakness in his head, but it didn't matter. If something he did hurt, she was going to let him know. Her heart fluttered when she felt his rough hands moving from her hips up across her belly, stopping just below her breasts. She was sure he was teasing her. He had already proven he had more self-control than she did, why did he have to keep rubbing it in? Oh well. It felt good.

Vegeta held onto his blue-haired woman as he pulled them out of the pool and sat on the edge with their feet hanging in the water. Despite the strong stench of chlorine filling his nostrils, he was privy to his woman's arousal as his hands explored her body, memorizing the feel of her smooth skin. She was deliciously soft while still having good muscle tone, which he definitely appreciated in her. His hands strayed down to her thighs and back up her sides to her shoulders. Bulma moaned so softly he barely heard it and snuggled back against his chest.

The saiyan was intrigued by the human female's response to his touch. He didn't know much about saiyan sexuality since he had been a child when Vegeta-sei was destroyed, taking all the female saiyans along with it. Raditz and Nappa had taught him little about courting and mating with saiyans since it was no longer relevant; all they taught him was about females in general, though he had never used said information until quite recently. No female had ever drawn his attention before the blue-haired earthling. He had raped many, but that was a show of power, not an act of lust, let alone love.

This was Vegeta's first experience with a female he was interested in, and who, by some miracle he didn't think he deserved, was interested in him too. Having traveled to hundreds of planets in his lifetime, he knew that each species had its own unique culture, including intricate and complicated mating rituals, which was why he was so tentative with his blue-haired woman. He was afraid of acting inappropriately, so he had decided to let her guide him in what he could or could not do. His knowledge of saiyan courting was solid enough to know that they were moving rapidly in their 'relationship.' Normally, a male saiyan would pursue a female for approximately a year. During the first half of that year, they would hardly touch one another aside from contact made in fights. If she had not rejected him by the end of the year, they would mate, making a permanent, unbreakable commitment of monogamy. Saiyans mated for life or didn't mate at all. It was that simple. They didn't have the time or the patience for casual dating, messy break-ups, and infidelity.

Because of the complexity of the saiyan courtship and the long time commitment, many saiyans chose not to ever mate. Saiyans had a relatively short period of time in their lives when they had a strong interest in mating, and most of them were constantly sent to clear planets for resale when they were at that stage of development. Before and after that developmental phase, saiyans' sex drives were mostly latent, a result of generations of evolution to become the best warriors possible, undistracted by their 'biological clocks.' However, there was the short time of intense need for a mate that enabled them to procreate and bring the next generation of warriors into being. And Vegeta had just reached the age of mating, though he wasn't cognizant of it.

Vegeta wondered if, in human culture, they were moving quickly. It was the second day of being in a 'relationship' and she was already allowing him to touch her scantily clad body and they already kissed. A lot. He was also astounded at the magnitude of pleasure his touching seemed to elicit in the little female. He couldn't be sure, but he had an idea that saiyan females would not have reacted so strongly, since he was being gentle. Surely saiyan females would want rougher treatment, something more animalistic, definitely some fighting. They wouldn't be interested in what he was doing with his woman now. He had started touching her out of his own curiosity, but she was enjoying it. He figured it wasn't a bad thing that she could be pleasured so easily. Especially considering he wasn't even touching any part of her anatomy related to sex. It would make more physical activities that much better, if he didn't hurt her accidentally.

He squeezed Bulma harder against his body and nuzzled into her neck when he heard her whimper a little. Apparently that was too much pressure for her liking. He was really going to have to be careful with her since she was so delicate. His need to protect her heightened as he explored her, finding her physical limitations and low pain threshold. It was a wonder these humans had survived for so long.

His hands dropped to her hips again as he inhaled her sweet scent and nibbled her neck and his tail curled around her thigh, tickling her a little. "It doesn't take much to arouse you, Woman," he teased.

"I can't help that you're so damn sexy. Are you surprised that a poor girl like me can't control herself around a man like you?" she quipped. Her hand moved behind his head to stroke his thick mane. She wondered if he would let her take more liberties with him now as she started scratching behind his ear. She grinned when he leaned into her hand and started purring, the deep vibrations resonating through her own body. "I guess this is acceptable now?"

Vegeta nodded and bit and sucked her shoulder. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her fingers stroking his tail.

Bulma felt his flinch and stopped her ministrations. "Tail still off limits? And I thought you said _I _was easy to arouse," she teased.

He scoffed and licked her neck. "Until you know what you're doing, I would prefer you not touch my tail. Yes, it can be arousing, but it can be many other things as well, which I would rather avoid."

"You mean you'll teach me?" she scratched behind his ear again and giggled when he started purring. The rumbling tickled her when he was so close.

"Not yet."

She sighed and nodded. At least he was willing to show her the different ways to touch his tail and what it made him feel. Maybe it was fair to wait; for all she knew, his tail's sensitivity was enough to induce orgasm or something. And since he wasn't touching her anywhere that would bring her to climax, she shouldn't either.

Bulma gave him a quizzical look when his purring turned to growling and his tail bristled around her leg. But he didn't see her look because his eyes were fixed on the front gate of the compound. The tip of his tail started flicking in agitation as he bared his teeth and growled louder. She could sense him tensing and looked around to see what had him all riled up. She was about to ask what was wrong when she finally saw the culprit behind his shift in moods.

A familiar figure walked through the gate holding a wilted bouquet of yellow daisies. She wrinkled her nose when she saw who had come to visit and would have growled along with Vegeta had she been able to.

"What the hell is he doing here?" she grumbled as she moved to stand up. But Vegeta yanked her back down with his tail and held her close. "Vegeta, what are you doing? Let me go so I can kick him out."

Many months had passed since she had broken up with Yamcha, but he had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Not only did he basically cheat on her with that slut Maron right in front of her, but he hit her when they were fighting. She hadn't seen him since then, which was for the best. While she didn't wish any harm on him or anything, she still didn't want to see him hanging around her home. Their relationship was over and it would take a long time to repair their friendship after what he had done.

Vegeta shook his head. "You will not go to him. Make him come to you. You are better than him. And superiors never wait on their inferiors." His grip would not loosen and Bulma knew she was stuck where she was as long as the saiyan decided to keep her there. She didn't fully understand his reasoning, but it was flattering anyway, so she wasn't complaining.

"Fine," she sighed. "I can tell it's going to be a pain belonging to you." She smiled at him and winked. It would take a while to get used to being considered someone's property. She wasn't a slave, but he did seem to have the power to control her. But in an odd way that gave her the strongest sense of security she had ever had.

He snorted and rested his head on her shoulder. "You are crazy, Woman." His grip on her loosened a little and then his hands started roaming across her body again. He was completely taken with every sensation he could get from her. Her beauty, her scent, the feel of her skin, her sweet taste, even the sound of her voice and laugh. They were all heavenly to him. Having her held so close to him was pure bliss. Annoying as she could be, she had somehow grown on him without him being aware of it until he was too late. Now he was addicted to her and there was no escaping her snare. He didn't mind. He just wanted more of her.

"That's why you like me." She kissed his neck and jaw while her hand went back to scratching behind his ear. He didn't purr, but he did lean into her hand to encourage her to keep going. Though most of his attention was devoted to her, he was still tracking the weakling's movement through the compound and that kept him from fully giving in to the pleasure her scratching was eliciting.

"That a fact?" he cocked his head to face her and brushed his lips against hers lightly.

She nodded and pulled his head to her so she could kiss him. He crushed his lips against hers and ravenously sucked her lip and probed her mouth with his tongue, drinking in her sweet taste. She twisted her body around in his lap to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck and fought his tongue with hers for entry to his guarded mouth.

He finally relented and let her tongue enter his mouth and he bit it gently, playfully. She pulled back and licked his lips before going back for more. Vegeta's hands rested on her hips, squeezing them as their kissing became more heated. She moaned into his mouth and bit his lip, tugging it gently. He chuckled and pulled back from her, amusement dancing in his eyes. Her attempt to dominate was entertaining to him. She was his, yet she refused to willingly submit. She unknowingly issued him a challenge that he would meet. She would submit, eventually.

They froze when they heard the back door of the compound open and slam shut. Vegeta could sense who was coming over to them without turning around. Bulma could see over the saiyan's shoulder that they were about to meet with their unwelcome visitor. Suddenly it didn't seem like such a big deal that he had come. She was a harmless part of her past now; with Vegeta, he couldn't touch her, and there was no way he could take her away from him.

"Look who's coming," she grumbled sarcastically before capturing the saiyan's lips with hers for one more kiss before their unpleasant encounter began.

Vegeta smirked as he kissed her back. It would be entertaining to see the cocky scar-faced man taken down a notch or two. Judging by his attire and the flimsy flowers clutched tightly in his hand, he had come back to try to woo the woman. But he had a new problem on his hands: Vegeta had claimed her and he was not giving her up. And she didn't want to go back to him anyway, that much was obvious.

There was an audible gulp behind the saiyan as the human warrior stopped a few feet away, no doubt gaping like a dead fish when he saw the unlikely couple. Vegeta's smirk broadened and Bulma grinned at him with a knowing look in her eyes.

"Bulma?"

She stuck her tongue out at Vegeta, who snapped at it playfully, before looking over his shoulder at her ex-boyfriend. She answered nonchalantly, "Oh, hey Yamcha. Long time, no see." One side of her mouth turned down when she mentally added, 'but not long enough.'

Yamcha rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and laughed nervously. "I know, right?" He cleared his throat. "I was hoping I could talk to you, since you know, we kind of ended things on a bad note and I wanted to make it up to you." He awkwardly thrust the dying daisies toward her with a lopsided smile and a blush tinting his cheeks.

"Oh. Thanks," Bulma mumbled as she took the flowers and tossed them on the ground next to her. Vegeta had to suppress a laugh when he saw her rejection of the weakling's gift. It would take more than some flimsy peace offering to undo the damage he did when he hit her. Vegeta knew she was a forgiving woman. He admired that aspect of her. But he hoped she would take her time forgiving the weakling for his offense. So far, it looked as though she was still rather bitter about their break-up.

The scar-faced man dug his toe into the grass where he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So you think we could talk? Alone?" His gaze darted to the saiyan, who had yet to acknowledge him, and back to Bulma's eyes. Talking was never easy with Vegeta around.

"What do we have to talk about that would be a private matter?" Bulma snapped. "I haven't even seen you since I broke up with you and now you show up out of the blue and expect me to drop everything for you?" She unwrapped her arms from Vegeta's neck and moved them around his chest, holding him tightly. He was her source of strength and confidence and she wasn't about to leave him. As if he would have let her go somewhere alone with Yamcha, anyway.

Yamcha took a step back and waved one hand in the air defensively. "Nothing bad, B. Just…us." He gave her a pleading look and stuffed his hand back in his pocket. His pathetic demeanor made Bulma wonder what she had ever seen in him. He was acting like a totally submissive wimp with no backbone. And he was trying to win her back? Likely story. Probably something had gone wrong in whatever relationship he had been in for the past few months and he'd come crawling back to her, hoping she would be single and lonely and more than willing to take him back. She rolled her eyes and rested her chin on Vegeta's shoulder.

"Sounds bad to me," she retorted coldly. "Let me guess. You've been in and out of a few failed relationships and now you've come back to beg for my forgiveness so I'll take you back with open arms and cry as I tell you how much I've missed you and waited every day for you."

"No! No, B, that's not it!" Yamcha protested. "Look, let's go inside and talk a little, ok?"

"There's nothing to talk about. We're over, end of story."

Yamcha frowned and kicked at the ground. "Please, B. Can't you give me one more chance? It – it hasn't been the same without you. I miss you."

"Don't, Yamcha," Bulma sighed. "I've moved on, so you can too."

Vegeta was growing bored of their conversation. Did they intend to continue conversing as if he weren't present? Granted, he hadn't drawn any attention to himself. And anyway, couldn't the scar-faced idiot see that she wasn't interested in him anymore? She belonged to him now, and he wasn't about to share. He smirked and slid his hands down her back until they reached her ass. She didn't seem to notice, so he squeezed. Bulma jumped. "Vegeta! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," Vegeta drawled, "is that off limits?" This mischievous look in his eyes was unmistakable. He wanted her to tell him that it wasn't in front of the weakling to show that she belonged to him now.

Bulma blushed lightly and shook her head. "No, it just surprised me." She turned her attention back to her ex-boyfriend and had to hold back a laugh at the look of disappointment and disgust on his scarred face. "Is something wrong, Yam?" she asked innocently.

"Are you two…?" He couldn't stand to say the words.

She finished for him, "Pack mates? Yes, we are. You've known that for a long time." The corners of her mouth twitched as she held in another bout of laughter when his expression became flustered. Obviously that wasn't what he was trying to say, but she was going to patronize him as long as possible.

"That's not what I meant," he mumbled.

Vegeta slid his hands down Bulma's legs, sending a shiver through her body, and wrapped them around his waist, his tail still tightly curled around her thigh. He put his arms around her waist and rose to his feet, turning to the side so both of them could see the weakling. His tail bristled again and his nose wrinkled in disgust. It had been so long since he'd been near the weaker warrior he almost forgot how repulsive the man was.

"You reek of other women," Vegeta snarled. "What do you want my woman for?" Bulma's stomach filled with butterflies and Yamcha's heart dropped to the ground in reaction to the obvious possessiveness of the saiyan.

Yamcha's jaw moved up and down but no words came out. He pointed at the couple and took a step back. "So you are?"

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "We are _what?_"

As the scar-faced man could only stutter, Bulma whispered in Vegeta's ear loud enough for Yamcha to hear as well, "I think he means we're _together._"

The saiyan snorted and turned his head to face the other warrior. "Yes. We are. Any more questions, or are you going to get the hell out now? You're not welcome here."

Yamcha shook his head, completely dumbstruck. He couldn't figure out how everything had gone so terribly wrong. While he hadn't expected to be able to come here and sweep Bulma off her feet since they did have a bad breakup, he hadn't counted on her _actually_ falling for the evil saiyan. Of course he had been jealous of them several months ago, but what boyfriend wouldn't be? But now, now they really _were_ together. His heart shattered along with any hope of getting back together with his old sweetheart. He had tried dating other women, even Maron, but it just hadn't been the same. He loved Bulma and he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone else. And now she was gone for good. It was Vegeta's fault. The whole damn thing was Vegeta's fault! If he hadn't come he never would have been jealous and…

"Since when?" he finally croaked out.

Bulma giggled when she thought of the answer. Technically it had only been since the night before, but they had feelings for each other before then. But she didn't know how far back, so she gave the only answer she could. "Last night."

The man was floored. He staggered back a few more steps, raising his hand to point at them again while his mind tried to wrap around that answer. If he had _only_ come back sooner maybe he could still have her! He had procrastinated too long and one day, one single day before he grew the balls to come talk to her, the saiyan stole her away from him.

"But he doesn't love you," he blurted before he could think to stop himself.

The blue-haired woman turned to Vegeta and cocked her head. "Don't you love me?"

Vegeta honestly had no idea. What the hell was love? He supposed it meant the same as having interest in taking someone as a mate. He shrugged. "Whatever the saiyan equivalent of your human concept of love is, perhaps."

This time Yamcha fell over. The saiyan and the woman turned their heads to look at him and shrugged simultaneously. Bulma smiled brightly at Vegeta and clamped her mouth over his in a passionate kiss. He hadn't really told her that he loved her, but he had come as close as he probably ever would, and it made her happier than she had ever been before in her life. Maybe saiyans weren't capable of loving as humans did, but he said there was an equivalent. And he 'equivalented' her. Good enough. No, better than good enough. It was fantastic.

"Well, I love you, Vegeta," she said.

He grunted and nuzzled into her neck again. He didn't really understand what 'love' was in human terms. He knew they talked about it an awful lot. Even the fool Kakarrot seemed to have some grasp on the concept, but he was in the dark about it. He didn't know if it had been wrong to say he did, in some way, return her sentiments. Did he unknowingly make some sort of commitment that bound him to her, whether or not he later decided it was a bad idea? He finally gave in to his desire to be with her, but permanently? The purpose of courtship was for both involved to figure out if they were compatible enough for mating. Then they really would be bound together. He wasn't going to retract his statement though. It made her happy and he would do about anything to see her brilliant smile. Even if it meant making a fool of himself.

The saiyan stepped over the other warrior who had apparently fainted and carried Bulma across the lawn and levitated up to her balcony.

"Why did we move?" she asked as he set her down on the rail.

He sneered in the direction of the scar-faced warrior. "I couldn't stand his stench anymore. There had to have been at least six different women's scents on him." He tugged on her leg with his tail and turned toward her room. "I'm supposed to be resting today, Woman."

Bulma gasped at the implications as she went with him into her room and laid down on her bed next to him. Vegeta rolled onto his side and pulled her up against him, brushing her tangled hair away from her neck as he nuzzled into her. His arms stayed tightly wrapped around her and his tail didn't move from its place on her leg as he went to sleep.

She relaxed and put her hands over his as she cuddled back against him. She closed her eyes and found it easier to sleep than she anticipated. But that wasn't too shocking, considering how little sleep she had gotten the night before. Her eyes snapped open again when she felt something tugging at the knot behind her neck holding her bikini in place. She craned her neck to see the saiyan pulling on the knot with his teeth. His eyes were closed and he really didn't look like he knew what he was doing. Was he asleep?

"Vegeta?" she whispered. No answer. "Vegeta?" she repeated louder. Still no answer. She chuckled when she figured he was definitely asleep and trying to undress her. It certainly made her wonder what dream he was having. She wiggled around in his vice grip until she was facing him so he wouldn't succeed in untying her halter. She kissed his lips softly before nuzzling into his chest and falling asleep.

Meanwhile Yamcha had regained consciousness and dragged himself to his feet. Seeing he was alone, he spun around in a circle searching for his ex-girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found. He sighed and tried to sense her small ki, but he couldn't find that either, so he went with the next best option: Vegeta's ki. That was a quick find. He might not have been as strong as he was months ago, but his power was still far superior to any human's, even his own. And there he was, in … in Bulma's bedroom.

'This can't be right,' he told himself frantically, 'There's been some kind of mistake. They're playing a joke on me to get back at me for what happened at Roshi's. That's all.' With that piece of reassurance, Yamcha flew up to Bulma's balcony and looked in the door. His heart stopped when he saw Vegeta in Bulma's bed. With Bulma. He stumbled backwards until he fell over the rail and hit the ground below. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he coughed a few times as he sat up and stared at the balcony above. All his hopes, all his dreams were dashed on the ground with him and ground into the dirt under Vegeta's boot.

It was right. There was no mistake. They weren't playing a joke. Yamcha was only a part of her past and Vegeta was her present and future. He staggered back to his feet and dropped his head in shame and rejection as he slowly trudged away from the compound. His only hope now was to be able to still be her friend. If that.

_A/N: Fluff! Slow updates ahead. Apparently I was getting lazy with my writing when I reached this point in the story, so it's going to take more time revising before updating. On top of that, I have a super busy week ahead of me. At this point in time, I'm considering shooting myself in the face. But I'll try not to so I can finish this story for you. :)_

_Side note: The other story I started is progressing quite well. It's probably going to be quite a while before I begin posting it, but rest assured it's going to be a good one._

_Review!_

_Song: "She Was My Girl" by Jerry Cantrell_


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

_Don't walk away from me  
High time you figured out what you started  
You started it  
And that's alright with me_

As the summer passed, Vegeta spent most of his waking hours training, growing in power until he was able to ascend to the legendary again. Everyday observers would no longer be able to guess he had ever been starving as his muscles had bulked back up and he seemed to feed on an endless source of energy and strength. He started taking a day off for rest once every two weeks, which he would spend with Bulma. He sat at the table longer at meals after he was finished eating and sometimes came in to meals early to see his blue-haired woman.

Bulma never went jogging without the saiyan prince at her side and became more accepting of his jealous, protective behavior when another man so much as glanced her way. She was growing accustomed to being considered 'his,' learning to love it whenever he made a comment to anyone revealing his claim on her. At one time she may have been afraid of his commitment to her, thinking she wouldn't be able to make equal commitment, but the more he focused on her, the more she wanted to reciprocate. Days where she had to go to headquarters were dreaded since she wouldn't be able to see the saiyan during lunch or when he took breaks in his training to pester her in her lab, and days where he was resting were highly anticipated events. Sometimes her productivity at work would diminish because she would get to thinking about Vegeta too much and forget to read documents or draw blueprints. She was madly in love with him and her mind was constantly drifting back to him.

The strange romance between the saiyan and the woman was blossoming into an ornate dance, with him pursuing her with alien mannerisms and her alternately accepting and rejecting his advances. While he held the power in the relationship, she could ultimately decline if he were taking anything too far for her comfort. Not that he pushed her boundaries too often; their physical relationship had hardly progressed past kissing and tentative touching.

What had changed most between the two was his increasing comfort in answering questions she had about him. There existed some boundaries that Vegeta still would not let her cross in regard to revealing his past, boundaries she was beginning to believe he would never let down. Initially that had bothered her as she sought greater trust and intimacy, but it slowly dawned on her that there were some things better left unsaid. Once when he had opened up to her, she had been so repulsed by him that he had run off for months because of her rejection; while she doubted she would ever react so strongly to any further revelations, she thought it would be just as well not to know some of the worst parts of his old life, especially if he was unwilling to share them.

Concerning Bulma, she was no longer able to keep anything about herself secret. Either she openly divulged information or Vegeta somehow figured it out, whether or not he ever voiced his curiosity. While he had always noticed the woman's quirks, habits, and emotions, he was even more observant now and not even the smallest hint of a passing thought went unnoticed by him when he was with her. Sometimes she was sure that he was actually reading her mind, but he assured her he didn't have that ability. He was constantly tuned in to her ki and knew when she was excited or upset about something. She had become an open book to him; while this may have annoyed or even scared her with anyone else, she was happy to see how well Vegeta knew her. Comparatively he was still closed off, but she could tell their trust was growing substantially and felt their closeness growing likewise.

It hadn't taken long for Bulma's parents to become privy to the couple's romantic relationship, which still hadn't been defined by either of them. The extra attention the saiyan was paying their blue-haired daughter at meals, during the day, and before bed was obvious. He was enraptured with her, freely showing his interest in everything she did. Sometimes he would even participate in a short conversation with her when he was eating. That was astounding in itself. Bulma, meanwhile, was unable to take her eyes off the saiyan, often blushed shyly when he looked her way, and talked about him incessantly when he wasn't around. But really what had given their relationship away was Mrs. Brief walking into the living room to find them making out on the couch like hormonal teenagers.

Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief were not upset about the relationship between Bulma and their alien houseguest. Rather, they fully supported it, thinking Vegeta to be a much better match for their brilliant daughter than Yamcha or any other man could be. He was intelligent, strong, honorable, proud, hard-working, and committed. His reservation, which Mrs. Brief still insisted was shyness, made him more appealing because he wouldn't draw media attention to the unorthodox relationship he had with the Capsule Corp heiress. They knew he didn't seek money or fame and didn't care about those things in Bulma. As they disregarded his royal title, he disregarded their economic power over the world. So they knew he was trustworthy and honest in his attraction to Bulma, and they knew he would die to protect her. Most importantly, though, he made her happy. She bubbled over with joy at the mention of his name and couldn't stay mad at him. She was clearly in love with him, and finding love was all they had ever hoped for, for her.

It was a warm mid-September morning when Bulma and Vegeta finished their jog and went into the kitchen of the compound to find Mrs. Brief preparing a pot of oatmeal, sausage links, and poached eggs. Bulma grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard and poured herself and Vegeta orange juice as she said her good mornings to her parents.

"Good morning, sweetie," Mrs. Brief chimed from the stove. "Do you remember what this weekend is? You need to buy yourself a new dress." She giggled merrily and turned the fire off beneath the oatmeal.

Bulma gave her mother a questioning look, which was ignored, so she looked at her father, who was busily reading his paper and hadn't been paying attention to what was being said at all. "What's going on this weekend?" she finally asked.

Mrs. Brief started ladling oatmeal out into the bowls she had grabbed from the cupboard. "Oh don't be silly, dear. You know it's the annual Capsule Corporation banquet." She waved her hand in the air as a way of telling her daughter to stop joking around.

"Oh," Bulma sighed. "Yeah, almost forgot about that damn thing." She grabbed two of the bowls of oatmeal and took them to the table. "You're going with me again this year, right Vegeta?"

The saiyan, who had been listening intently even though he looked completely inattentive nearly spit his orange juice out when she asked that. He slammed his glass down on the counter and gave his blue-haired woman a cold glare. "No way am I attending that foolish dinner again."

She turned to him with a pout on her lips and asked, "Why not, 'Geta? I didn't make you go last year. Don't you think it'll be fun to go with me?"

Fun was the last word Vegeta would use to describe the company social event. The one time he had gone went fine until the end when he had a breakdown of his pride and ended up fleeing the planet for almost a year. He didn't like crowds, didn't like small talk, wasn't interested in the corporation's business, and didn't feel like hiding his identity again. Besides, if he had to go shopping for another suit, the deal was off even if he accepted. No man was going to frisk him up again, that was for sure.

"No," he said curtly.

Bulma walked over to him and put her hands on his chest as she looked into his onyx depths. "Please, 'Geta? I won't try to hide who you are again. I'm proud of what you are." That and she didn't want a repeat of last time. She wasn't going to lose him again.

"Go with whoever you went with last year," he snarled. He knew what she was trying to do and he wasn't going to fall for it. Honestly, he never did so he didn't know why she kept trying to win him over with a 'puppy dog' look and some physical contact while giving him a whiny voice and looking at him with those clear blue eyes. Sure it would have worked on any other man, but Vegeta was not an ordinary man and her ordinary tactics were ineffective. Besides, he was even more stubborn than she was.

She frowned at him and leaned into him. "I didn't go with anyone last year. You were too busy training for me to even get a chance to ask you and I'd broken up with Yamcha." Of course he already knew that, which was why he made his suggestion. Had she gone with anyone the previous year there was no way he would let her do it again. She was his, and his alone.

"Not my problem."

Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief exchanged knowing glances as the lovers started one of their little arguments that would end soon enough. They made silent bids on who would win this one and went back to their tasks, Mrs. Brief finishing the eggs and Dr. Brief turning to the comics.

"But Vegeta!" Bulma cried, pounding her fists against his chest. "I hate going alone and we're… well. We're whatever we are so it's really your duty to go with me!"

"Breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Brief squealed with excitement as she laid the last platter of food on the table and beckoned the young lovers to come eat. Food never failed to break up their bickering because one of them didn't have the ability to continue a verbal spar and eat at the same time. He may have been capable of many things, but multi-tasking where food was involved was not one of them.

Vegeta slid into his chair across from his blue-haired woman and gave her another dark look before pouring milk over his oatmeal and piling eggs and sausage onto his plate. Bulma let out an exasperated sigh and started eating, knowing they would continue arguing once breakfast was over. She started formulating some persuasive appeals that would hopefully have some effect on the stubborn prince. She needed to be ready when they went at it again so she could outwit him and convince him that going with her to the banquet was worth his time.

Before Bulma was finished eating Vegeta stood up and left the kitchen, not wanting any further discussion about the banquet. He knew that he could not avoid it forever, but the longer the better, in his opinion. So he ignored Bulma calling him to come back and went out to the yard to start his post-breakfast training. He briefly considered training in the gravity room so he could lock her out, but if she was upset enough about this then she would use the emergency override to turn the gravity off and unlock the door anyway. And judging by the fluctuations in her ki, she was pretty upset and willing to interrupt his training to argue with him more.

"That jerk! I can't stand him," Bulma hissed as she stabbed a sausage violently.

Dr. Brief and Mrs. Brief exchanged glances again and started chuckling at their daughter's statement. When Bulma gave them accusing glares, her father hid behind his newspaper while Mrs. Brief started stacking plates and carried them to the sink. They were immensely amused by the bantering because they could see the prideful stubbornness on both sides. It was like two brick walls trying to push the other over. One never knew who was going to win, so they just sat back and watched the show, never worried that the arguments would turn into real fights. They knew Vegeta had exceptional control over his anger when he was arguing with their daughter, so they trusted him never to raise a hand against her regardless of how heated their disagreements became. So, if anything, their quarrels provided them daily entertainment.

Bulma ran her hand through her messy hair and groaned with frustration. It wasn't going to be easy to persuade the prince this time. She pushed her chair back from the table and held her chin high as she marched out to the yard where Vegeta was training. She could see he was in the middle of one of his 'battles' and knew better than to try talking to him. One thing she had learned over the past few months was that he was mentally in another time and place when he was fighting like this and wouldn't hear or remember anything she said to him afterward. So she leaned against the side of the compound and waited for him to finish, hoping it wouldn't be a long battle. Sometimes they dragged on for hours, which to her was unbelievable. She knew saiyans loved fighting and all, but battling for hours on end was intense. And anyway, who would have been able to stand up to him that long? Apparently someone had and all she could do was wait for him to reach his victory over his ghost opponent.

After an hour she was getting tired of watching his fight. Maybe it would have been more interesting if she could actually see what he was fighting against. What attacks was he blocking, were his blows hitting, and if so, where? What effect did they have on his adversary? She yawned and sank down to sit on the ground as she continued waiting. He had probably chosen a long fight on purpose so he wouldn't have to talk to her. It wouldn't be the first time he used such a low tactic.

Another hour passed and Vegeta was still going strong while Bulma was nodding off. She snapped her eyes open when her head fell to her chest and yawned as she stretched her arms over her head. She looked over to where the saiyan was furiously punching at someone she would never see and sighed. He was in another world and probably would be for a long time. She figured she might as well go do something productive, like create her presentation, and just talk to him about attending the banquet later. Bulma pulled herself to her feet and stomped back into the compound, slamming the front door behind her.

Mrs. Brief, who was in the laundry room, jumped when she heard her daughter's angry entrance. She peeked her head out the door and saw the fuming blue-haired woman and giggled. Apparently, Vegeta was still being stubborn and Bulma hadn't gotten her way yet. She shook her head and continued putting the dirty laundry into the washer, humming a happy tune to herself.

Bulma stalked through the halls and went down to her lab to start her presentation. She really didn't feel like working on it – not that she ever did – but it needed to get done. She decided it was going to be the best presentation she had ever given and it would knock the socks off all the old coots who still thought she wasn't fit to be president of the company when her father stepped down. With that goal in mind she sat down and immediately set to work. Again her anger with Vegeta was fueling her productivity and she was making a presentation that was so amazing she impressed herself with it.

Vegeta didn't finish his battle until lunchtime. When he came out of his trance he was pleased to note that his blue-haired woman was nowhere around, probably having given up on waiting for him to acknowledge her. He smirked to himself as he wiped the sweat off his face and walked into the compound to get some nourishment. He stopped outside the kitchen door when he heard voices coming from inside, curious to know what was being discussed.

"Oh honey, I'm sure he'll come around," Mrs. Brief reassured her daughter.

There was a short silence. "I don't know, Mom. I don't know what the big deal is anyway. It would mean a lot to me if he would just get over himself and go. I know it's not a lot of fun, that's why I want him with me. I was bored to tears last year when I didn't even have Yamcha complaining the whole time."

The saiyan rolled his eyes. So she _was_ still on that topic. He shrugged and pushed the door open and went to sit down at the table, purposely avoiding eye contact with his blue-haired woman. He could feel her eyes on him but made no acknowledgement of it as he grabbed a sandwich and tore into it with saiyan fervor. If she wasn't going to speak up then he certainly wasn't going to throw himself under the bus by starting the conversation he didn't want to have. She could glare at him all day long but it wouldn't affect him.

"Hello, Mr. Vegeta," Mrs. Brief chirped. "How is your training going today?" She smiled brightly at him and set a bowl of freshly made coleslaw on the table.

He grunted as he started spooning the slaw onto his plate with one hand while the other held the sandwich he was munching on. His eyes darted to his empty glass and back to the blonde, silently telling her he needed a refill of lemonade. He grunted his thanks when she complied and shoved another sandwich into his mouth. Had he not been so regal about it all he could have easily been mistaken for a caveman with his short, deep grunts and the rapid pace at which he ate, never setting his sandwich down once he grabbed it.

Bulma watched him for a while before gathering her courage to speak. "So, Vegeta, are you sure you don't want to go to the banquet with me?" She gave him a weak smile.

Vegeta paused in his eating and looked up at her for the first time since coming into the kitchen. "I'm certain." He let his words sink in before resuming his eating, now eager to finish and get the hell out before she pestered him more.

"But why?" she whined, beginning to lose hope in a change of heart. She was used to his stubbornness, but normally he would give in eventually when she was persistent enough, albeit grudgingly.

He slammed his hands down on the table and glared at her. "There are a multitude of reasons, but first and foremost, a female does _not_ ask a male to attend any social event with her. Since you've asked, it would be improper for me to accept." His tail, twitching agitatedly, thumped against his chair, the only sound heard in the kitchen for a few moments.

"Would you like more lemonade, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked, breaking the tension.

Vegeta grunted and grabbed another sandwich. He didn't care about earthling customs. Where he was from, females never took the initiative of asking for an escort. It was the responsibility of the male to ask to escort a female. To accept a female's invitation would be dishonorable, not to mention humiliating. Apparently his woman didn't seem to realize the significance of asking him, but he wasn't in the mood to enlighten her.

The significance of who asked who to go was, indeed, lost on Bulma who did not know that much about saiyan etiquette. "So why don't you just ask me to go with you?"

Her suggestion was unbelievable. Vegeta tossed his half eaten sandwich on his plate and stood to leave, unwilling to continue speaking about the stupid banquet. "Because I do not wish to go," he snapped as he disappeared out the door.

"Even Yamcha never put up this much of a fight," Bulma muttered after he was gone. She sighed and rested her forehead in her hand. "How am I going to get him to go, Mom?"

Mrs. Brief shrugged helplessly. "He's just shy, dear. Give him time and he might change his mind, just you wait."

Bulma nodded sadly and rose out of her chair to leave. She felt defeated and wanted to go back to her lab to lick her proverbial wounds. Her mother's reassurance wasn't very effective since Bulma wasn't convinced Vegeta was shy at all. She knew he was antisocial and determined not to go to the banquet. When she was out of sight Mrs. Brief jumped up from the table and pulled a large mixing bowl out of the cupboard and started mixing up batter for chocolate cupcakes.

Vegeta had been training for an hour after his disastrous lunch when he heard the back door of the compound swing shut. He growled and whirled around, ready for another round against his blue-haired woman, but instead he saw her crazy blonde mother prancing toward him holding a plate covered in steaming chocolate cupcakes. His mouth started watering despite his misgivings about her motives.

"There you are, Mr. Vegeta!" she sang, "I've been looking all over for you. I baked these just for you. I think you deserve a treat since you've been working _so_ hard lately." She smiled her brightest smile at him and held the plate out to him.

He accepted the plate and picked one of the cupcakes and sniffed it for any scents that didn't belong. It was unusual for the blonde woman to disrupt his training for any reason and he wasn't sure what to make of the random food offering. Not smelling any foreign substance, he shoved the cupcake in his mouth, barely savoring the taste before he swallowed it and stuffed another in. All the while he kept his eyes on Mrs. Brief, who simply stood there smiling at him. She was definitely up to something, that was for sure. But what kind of insidious plot could a brainless old bat like her come up with? He shrugged it off and popped another cupcake in his mouth.

With each cupcake he ate his suspicion lessened as the chocolate lightened his mood. This was exactly what Mrs. Brief had been counting on, and she could see that he was no longer looking at her as if expecting an attack and his scowl had given way to stoicism, which was about as close as he got to a cheerful expression when he wasn't laughing.

She cleared her throat before she began, "So, Mr. Vegeta, what's the real reason you won't go with my Bulma to the banquet?"

Vegeta stuffed the last cupcake into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing. He _knew_ the crazy woman had an ulterior motive, but since he had accepted her peace offering he felt obligated to at least answer her question. He shrugged. "What I said before was true. I _could_ ask to escort her, but I would rather not put us into a situation where neither of us are comfortable. She feels the need to hide what I am and I do not want it to be hidden. If I'm not there then these problems will not arise."

Mrs. Brief took the empty plate back from the prince and tapped her lips with her index finger as she thought about what he said. "But she said she wouldn't try to hide it this time."

He snorted and half turned away from her. "So she said, but that doesn't mean she wants to reveal my identity. She is afraid of the humans' reactions to finding out who I am. She doesn't seem to trust her employees."

"Maybe not," Mrs. Brief conceded. "But maybe she just doesn't want them to tell anyone outside of the company about you. I know! She could have all of her employees sign a contract agreeing not to ever speak of what you are outside the walls of the corporation."

"She could do that?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow, his interested piqued.

The blonde woman shrugged and grinned. "Why not? Chances are people will figure it out eventually. There _are_ a lot of brilliant men and women working for my husband, you know. I could tell her it's a safety precaution. I bet she'd have it done by the end of the day tomorrow."

Vegeta nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, his tail twitching behind him as he considered the woman's proposition. It didn't even faze him that the idea originated in her brainless head. If his identity could be revealed at _least_ to the humans at the banquet, then he wouldn't feel his pride being crushed. If they told the employees in their departments, it wouldn't matter one way or another since he never saw them. Honestly, he didn't even care if the general public knew about him, but his blue-haired woman did, so he decided it would be best to keep information about himself out of the news. He wouldn't have to worry about that if the employees at Capsule Corp swore to keep quiet about who the mysterious houseguest was. That is, if she somehow managed to get them all to sign such a contract, and that was assuming her employees would be willing to stay silent on the matter even if they _did_ sign the contract. A piece of paper never kept mouths shut when there was a big enough monetary or other reward waiting in his experience. Still, it was worth a shot.

"Tell her this plan," he said, "And if it's done within two days I will ask her to the banquet. Do not tell her that you discussed this with me." He nodded curtly and went back into the yard to continue his training while Mrs. Brief giggled and ran back inside. As he returned to his training he marveled at the blonde woman's idea. He never gave her much credit for her intelligence because it was more than obvious that she had none. But then, maybe it was a façade she put on, seeing no need to parade her smarts around because she was surrounded by the world's greatest geniuses. If she wanted no part in the company, maybe she just wanted them all to believe she was a bimbo airhead to avoid having to have any dealings with the family business. He shook his head and chuckled. She was much, much smarter than he originally believed.

"That's a great idea, Mom!" Bulma squealed excitedly as she jumped out of her chair to embrace her mother. "That way I don't have to hide who he is and not worry about it getting spread all over. It's perfect!"

Mrs. Brief smiled and hugged her only daughter. "That's wonderful, sweetie. I'm sure it'll make it a lot easier on both of you so you won't have to worry about spilling secrets." She pulled back and patted Bulma's arm affectionately before excusing herself to go start dinner and ran up the stairs out of the lab.

Bulma sat back in her chair and spun around to face her computer. She closed the report she had been reading and opened a blank document to start typing up the non-disclosure agreement that would protect Vegeta's identity from being leaked to the world. It only took her a few minutes to complete before she emailed it to her father for him to check it over before she could distribute it to all Capsule Corp employees to sign by that Thursday.

'Why didn't I think of this?' she wondered as she hit the 'send' button. She chuckled and shook her head at her mother's ingenuity. The blonde woman sure acted clueless most of the time, but her father hadn't only married her for her looks. There was more to her than met the eye, that was for sure.

Vegeta was finishing a kata when he felt a large ki suddenly appear behind him. He growled and whirled around with his fist aimed at his visitor's jaw, but it was caught before his arm was fully extended. "What do you want here, Kakarrot?" he snarled, ripping his hand free.

Goku smirked, pleased with himself for finally blocking one of Vegeta's lightning fast attacks. "I was wondering if you're up for a spar? It's been a while, since you were too _weak_ to spar before."

Vegeta scowled at the younger saiyan and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a sore subject for him that he had to decline several invitations to spar because he couldn't hold his own against his rival. Not when he was still recovering from his emaciation. He was stronger now, though. Maybe not as strong as he had been a year ago, but he made quick progress through all his training. Perhaps it was time to accept the clown's offer.

His smirk matched Goku's as he nodded his agreement to spar. "Fine, if you think you can keep up, fool. Where to?"

"Gravity room? That way you won't be far from the infirmary. You'll be needing it."

"You are awful confident for a piece of third-class trash."

"Just lead the way."

With a sneer, Vegeta turned and went into the compound, his tail flicking behind him as he strode through the winding halls of Capsule Corp. He honestly didn't know how he would fair against the other saiyan. It had been a long time since he had a real fight and he was already worn out from his training. Still, he wasn't about to turn down another opportunity to beat his inferior senseless. They soon reached the gravity room and went inside.

"Increased gravity or not?" the prince asked as he stretched his aching arms.

"Nah, I don't want to put you at an unfair disadvantage." Goku started stretching his legs in preparation for their fight. He knew his opponent wouldn't pull any punches, so he needed to be ready. Even if Vegeta wasn't as strong as he used to be, he was still crafty and resourceful and he would need to be on his guard.

Vegeta scoffed but left the gravity simulator off. He wouldn't argue if the third-class fool didn't want the gravity raised. He was actually somewhat grateful that he wouldn't have that added strain put on his body. Not that he would ever voice that thought. He finished his short warm-up and sank into his stance as he waited for Goku to take his stance across from him.

"Can you transform yet?" Goku asked.

The corner of Vegeta's mouth turned down. "Not easily."

Goku nodded. "Then no transforming."

Vegeta sighed but agreed. It was humiliating to admit he was having trouble holding the ascension when he was formerly able to hold it for weeks at a time. Still, he didn't want to fight a super saiyan when he was only able to maintain the ascended state for a few minutes before quickly running out of energy.

"Normal rules?"

"Anything goes."

Goku felt déjà vu but shook it off. Vegeta wasn't acting wildly animalistic. At least not yet. And even if he did, he would be able to overpower him this time. He was sure of it. He nodded his agreement and moved into his fighting stance. They both roared as they shot forward and starting furiously punching and kicking at each other, but very few blows landed as they blocked and dodged with blinding speed.

Finally, Goku whirled around in a roundhouse kick and knocked Vegeta to the floor. He took his opportunity to crash his elbow into Vegeta's back, digging it between his ribs. Vegeta bounced back up and shot a small ki blast at Goku, but his rival easily dodged it. He growled in frustration. Was he really so weak?

Goku phased behind Vegeta and shot a ki blast into his back, sending him flying into the opposite wall. Vegeta crashed to the floor and coughed as he staggered back to his feet. He leaped to the left when he felt another ball of ki headed straight for him. He crossed the room, dodging more ki attacks as he fell into a series of handsprings. When he reached the wall he kicked off it and flew through the air, sending his own ki blasts back at Goku.

One of his attacks hit its target, momentarily dazing the younger saiyan. Vegeta landed behind him and caught him in a chokehold. With his free hand he started punching Goku's back, repeatedly hitting his kidneys. He only loosened his grip when Goku retaliated by bashing his head into Vegeta's forehead.

'What the hell is his skull made of?' he wondered as he shook his head to clear his double vision. His moment of vulnerability proved to be the perfect opportunity for his rival to spin around and punch his solar plexus.

Vegeta fell to his knees, now holding both his head and his stomach. He wheezed as he tried to refill his lungs with air. He was mercilessly knocked to the floor again when Goku kicked him between the shoulders and blasted him with a strong beam of ki. He could smell burnt clothes mingling with burnt flesh as he shakily forced himself to his feet.

"You'll…pay for…that," he panted.

"Go ahead, make me pay," Goku's voice came from what must have been ten places at once. He was phasing in and out all over the room, making Vegeta have to guess where he was going to appear next.

Vegeta growled and threw a ball of ki to his right and was surprised that it actually hit its target. He heard Goku's yelp of pain and laughed before crashing back down on his knees. His ki was dwindling fast. He stood again and caught Goku's leg as it swung around to hit him. His victory was short-lived when Goku twisted and brought his other leg around to hit him in the head. Both saiyans fell to the floor, but only one of them was breathing hard after that exchange.

Goku hopped to his feet and waited for the prince to get back up, feeling slightly guilty for beating him so bad. He was obviously not at his best yet. 'Maybe I shouldn't go so hard on him yet.' He shook his head. 'He would know if I'm not trying my hardest and that would make him even madder. I need to finish this before he gets too badly hurt.'

He watched as Vegeta again forced himself to his feet and sank back into his stance. He looked furious but his ki was slipping away by the second. He wouldn't last much longer. That didn't mean he was going to give up. He leaped forward and starting kicking and punching again, but fewer and fewer blows landed as Goku proved too fast to hit.

Now sweating and breathing heavily, Vegeta knew he was going to lose. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He had to hold onto his pride. He might be knocked down this time, but he wouldn't stay down. He was going to keep getting stronger and he _would_ overtake the third-class clown as the strongest warrior in the universe again. He just needed time.

"You look tired, Vegeta," Goku taunted.

Vegeta wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand and glared at Goku. "I'm not done yet," he spat. He threw his fist forward and smirked when it hit Goku's jaw. The younger warrior staggered to the side but stayed on his feet.

Goku jumped high in the air and cupped his hands at his side. "We'll see about that." He started gathering energy that glowed bright blue in his hands. Vegeta immediately recognized it, his eyes widening when he saw what his rival was doing.

"Ka… Me…"

Vegeta bounced back away from the other saiyan until he was backed up against the wall. He didn't know how to get out of this one. He swallowed hard when he felt Goku's power skyrocketing. His eyes shifted around the room, looking for escape. There was none. He looked back up at Goku.

"Ha…Me…"

"You fool! You'll blow the whole damn compound to the next dimension!" Vegeta yelled.

"Scared, 'Geta?"

Vegeta growled and bared his teeth. He was like a cornered animal. He felt an upsurge of energy as he waited for the other warrior's attack. He wasn't going to take this lying down.

"Ha!" Goku brought his arms forward and released his kamehameha on the flame-haired saiyan. He didn't see Vegeta moving to dodge or block the attack and immediately panicked. 'Move, move you idiot! This could kill you!' He was about to guide the beam away from Vegeta when the older saiyan brought his hands forward and _blocked_ the blast. Goku was astounded. No one could ever block one of his kamehameha waves! Especially not when they were so weakened!

Vegeta groaned with the effort it took to hold off the wave of energy. He could feel the skin on his hands burning and the muscles in his arms trembling with the effort it took to hold it away from his body. He grit his teeth and forced the last of his ki into his hands and shot it forward, pushing the oncoming energy away from him. As soon as the danger was gone he blacked out and fell to the floor.

Goku took the brunt of his own attack as it was deflected back toward him. His training gi was burned off his body, but at least the wave didn't hit the room and destroy it. Vegeta had been right, it had enough power in it to destroy not only the gravity room but the whole compound as well. Goku was just counting on Vegeta's body taking on most of it. Well, he had underestimated the older saiyan. He was tough as nails, no doubt.

He lowered himself to the floor and walked over to the unconscious saiyan and knelt down next to him. "Wow, Vegeta. You always have to do the impossible, huh?" He smiled and gathered the small saiyan in his arms and carried him out of the gravity room to the infirmary and called for Bulma.

The blue-haired woman rushed to the infirmary when she got Goku's message. She thought she heard a higher than average number of explosions coming from the gravity room, but she hadn't known it was a spar between the full-blooded saiyans. It didn't surprise her at all. She found Vegeta lying on the examination table with Goku sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. He smiled guiltily and shrugged. Nothing needed to be said. He was the victor and, knowing Vegeta, he took a real beating before he finally lost consciousness.

"You crazy saiyan," she muttered as she started cleaning his wounds. "I think you spend more time in here than anywhere else in the compound aside from your precious gravity room."

She was bandaging his body up when Vegeta's eyes cracked open and he saw his blue-haired woman hovering over him. It didn't take long for him to figure out where he was. His eyes moved to the other saiyan sitting in the room and scowled. He wasn't feeling too good about his defeat. "Why are you still here?" he mumbled.

Goku grinned and scratched the back of his head. "I wanted to make sure you were ok and didn't need a senzu bean or anything."

"I'm fine." Vegeta growled when Bulma applied some ointment that stung the burn on the palm of his hand.

She rolled her eyes. "_Sorry_, prince, I thought you could handle pain."

"I can. That does not mean I _enjoy_ it though."

"Could have fooled me. You get hurt often enough…"

Vegeta looked like he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut and looked away from her. He hated letting her see him when he was so weak. Especially after a defeat at the hands of the third-class idiot. He knew she didn't really care who ever won or lost in their spars, but it mattered a great deal to him and hurt his pride when he didn't come out victorious. Not that that had happened for a very long time. Granted, they hadn't sparred for a very long time.

"You know," she teased, "I think we have an inappropriate relationship, 'Geta. A nurse should never become intimately involved with her patients. It's unethical."

"Shut up, Woman," he snapped.

She laughed and finished taking care of the burns on his hands, which were really the worst of the injuries he got from his spar with Goku. She wondered how he got them but decided she didn't really want to know so she refrained from asking. There was one injury left to treat, though.

"Oh, you have a boo-boo on your cheek, too," she said sweetly. She leaned forward and kissed the small cut on his cheek and pulled back to see Vegeta glaring at her with a deep blush coloring his cheeks.

"Idiot woman," he murmured. She could tell he wasn't really mad at her for it, but he was embarrassed to be seen enjoying it by his rival.

Goku grinned again when he saw their exchange. If he understood them right, they were finally together. He felt giddy as he watched them. It was great that they finally came to terms with the fact that they were attracted to each other. 'Maybe there's still time…' he stopped that thought and shook his head forlornly. 'No, it's way too late for Trunks. He would have been conceived a year ago.' Still, two of his best friends – or at least one best friend and his fiercest rival – were happy together. That much was obvious. He was happy for them and hoped they would stay together unlike in the future. Both were too feisty for anyone else to handle. They worked well together, despite their fighting. If anything, they grew closer together by bickering.

Bulma ran her hand through Vegeta's thick mane and chuckled at his bashfulness. "What am I going to do with you, 'Geta?"

He shrugged and pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the table. "You should have thought of that before you made your advances on me, Woman."

She laughed and nuzzled into his chest when he pulled her into an embrace and buried his nose in her strawberry-scented hair. She had no idea what she was going to do with him at all. He was stubborn and abrasive, but she was his. She loved him more than the whole world and wouldn't change a thing if she had the chance to go back and do it all over again. He was worth every ounce of trouble he gave her.

_A/N: Oh, the rivalry is _on._ Had to give you some Goku action, it's been a while. Will Bulma get the NDA done in time for Vegeta to ask her to the banquet? Will their budding relationship bloom into a perfect romance? Will Vegeta ever be as strong as Goku again? All this and more in the coming chapters!_

_And seriously, review. Don't get lazy on me, dear readers. I love your comments, questions, and concerns._

_Song: "Sadie Hawkins Dance" by The Hush Now_


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

_Do your demons  
Do they ever let you go  
When you've tried do they hide deep inside  
Is it someone that you know_

Thursday rolled around quickly and every single employee of Capsule Corporation had either signed the non-disclosure agreement about Vegeta or had been terminated. Fortunately, no one had chosen the termination route; what was another NDA to sign? They had already signed a dozen before being employed. The corporation was very secretive with its production processes, among other things, so employees were required to keep quiet about almost everything that went on behind closed doors.

Bulma called home from her office at headquarters to relate the good news to her mother. She figured she deserved to know how it went since it had been her idea in the first place. Mrs. Brief was just as excited – if not more – as her daughter to hear that Vegeta's identity would be a company secret. Once she hung up the phone she immediately ran outside to relay the news to the prince who was training in the yard.

"Mr. Vegeta!" she called as she ran out the back door of the compound. "Mr. Vegeta, she did it!" She was grinning from ear to ear when the saiyan stopped his kata to come over to her.

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "She managed to get it done? Impressive." He smirked at his blue-haired woman's ability to do the impossible when she set her mind to it. When it came to business, there was none greater. That was one more thing he admired about her.

Mrs. Brief nodded enthusiastically and clapped her hands together. "It's so wonderful, Mr. Vegeta! Now you can ask to take her to the company banquet on Saturday!" She sighed as thoughts of a romantic night floated through her mind.

"Hn." Vegeta shook his head and went back to his training, figuring there was nothing more to be said to the ditzy woman. Now he had to think of a way to bring up the topic of the banquet without being too obvious about knowing about the contract. Bulma hadn't mentioned it since Tuesday, so he was convinced that she had given up on him going. Wouldn't she be surprised, then, when he told her he was going to escort her to the banquet?

At dinner that night, Mrs. Brief was more cheerful than usual, Dr. Brief was as absent-minded as ever, Bulma was pleased with herself for her accomplishment at work, and Vegeta was anxiously agitated. Through the meal Mrs. Brief was talking about all the arrangements she had made for the banquet, including which caterer she had called, what food she had ordered, how much of said food she had ordered, and when the food would be delivered. Dr. Brief was nodding as he half-listened to his wife's endless babbling and Bulma was smiling as she pretended to care. She really wanted to get her two cents in about her day, but there was just no opportunity since her mother never seemed to take a breath.

Vegeta smirked when he saw Bulma trying to get her say in, knowing full well what she was going to announce. He didn't want her to tell him about the contract until _after_ he had asked her to the banquet so she wouldn't think he knew about it beforehand. He knew it was a big deal to her, so he was going to play the act of wanting to go even if it meant having to hide who and what he was for another night of torture. He also knew that Mrs. Brief was talking more than usual because she was keeping her daughter from making her announcement. She was privy to the fact that the saiyan didn't want to ask her daughter after she had let the cat out of the bag.

Mrs. Brief nearly jumped out of her seat when she felt the saiyan's furry tail brush against her leg. She squeaked out her surprise and turned to look at him and caught the shadow of a smirk and giggled. That was his way of telling her 'thank you' for what she was doing. She patted his leg under the table and continued her babbling. He started chomping on another ear of corn and gave no further acknowledgement to the blonde woman's efforts.

After the dishes were cleared from the table, Vegeta rose from the table and grabbed Bulma around the waist with his tail and yanked her to her feet as he walked by and dragged her out of the kitchen, across the hall, and into the living room.

"What's the deal, 'Geta?" Bulma squeaked when he roughly turned her to face him. Any thoughts she had at that moment of telling him what she had done at work were forgotten due to his strange behavior.

Instead of answering outright, Vegeta moved his tail down to her thigh and took her right hand in both of his and bowed at the waist. He asked clearly and formally, "Woman, would you allow me to escort you to the Capsule Corporation banquet?" It came out more as a statement, but that could only be expected from him. He never _asked_ for anything.

Bulma stared at the saiyan, jaw dropped, and nodded, but he couldn't see her because he was still bowed down. She regained her voice and answered after a minute. "Yes, Vegeta, of course." She was beaming as he straightened his back and a faint smile played across his lips. He had known her answer before she gave it, but it was relieving to hear it said out loud anyway.

"Good," he said, "But I refuse to go as a human. I'm dressing and acting like a saiyan this time around." The firmness in his tone and expression left no room for argument, but what he wanted was for her to tell him that was acceptable because his identity was safe within the confines of Capsule Corp. Let her have her moment of glory in telling him about the contract.

"That's fine!" she nearly shouted before he had finished saying the last word. "You'll never guess what I did at headquarters. I made every employee at CC sign a non-disclosure agreement about any information they might find out about you either from you directly or any other employee at the company, including me and my parents."

Vegeta decided to play dumb for her benefit. "What does that mean, Woman?"

She laughed and hugged him tightly. "It _means_ that we're free to tell anyone employed at Capsule Corp about who and what you are and they can't say a word about it to anyone not also working for the company, not even their families. Your secret is safe with the company."

"Is that so?" he murmured as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent, spiked with excitement.

"So," she said after a pause, "What do saiyans wear to formal events?"

He smirked and nipped her neck. "Typically, we would wear our best loincloths."

Bulma's eyes widened in shock and she pulled away from him, shaking her head furiously. "No, no, no, no, no, there is _no_ way I'm letting you take me to the banquet in a loincloth, Vegeta, absolutely no way!"

The saiyan started laughing and pulled her back to him and nuzzled into her neck again until his laughing died into a low chuckle. "Relax, Woman, saiyans wear their best armor to formal occasions such as this."

She started laughing too when she realized he had been joking. "Damnit, Vegeta, you need to warn a girl when you're pulling your sense of humor off the shelf. I can never tell when you're using it, smartass." She blushed a little at her own gullibility and stroked his hair.

"That would defeat the purpose of using it," he said as he kissed behind her jaw.

"I guess. But what armor will you wear? The only armor I know of that you have is that old broken breastplate from Namek."

Vegeta nibbled her ear and whispered, "That is all the armor I have. Therefore, it is my best. But it will need a few improvements before the banquet."

Bulma felt her knees turning to jelly beneath her. How long had it been since he was this close to her? Three days? Four? More?

"But it's all ruined. There's the huge hole in the middle, and the one where… the one over your heart."

The saiyan picked her up and sat down on the couch with her on his lap and kissed down her neck and shoulder. "Yes, those are emblems of a great warrior. It is not armor to wear to a battle, since it would be useless, but to wear as a symbol of honor and courage. All it needs is the royal crest and a cape." He pushed her blouse off her shoulder and kissed down her chest.

"That could be arranged," she breathed.

He could smell her arousal as his mouth worked down between her breasts along the 'V' of her blouse. He smirked and squeezed her hips as he trailed kisses back up to her shoulder, up her neck, and along her jaw. "Good." He moved her off his lap and stood up. "I have to train." He strode out of the room before she could react, snickering to himself over the state he left her in. It was, perhaps, a little cruel on his part, but that was payment for him going to the banquet.

"Damnit, Vegeta!" she yelled after him. She blushed deeply as she pulled her blouse back up on her shoulder and smoothed out her clothes before leaving the living room. She didn't want her parents getting any ideas about what had happened.

Late that night, Bulma was getting out of a long, relaxing bubble bath when she heard a noise out on her balcony. She knew what it was since she had heard it many times before, so she quickly threw her damp hair into a bun and threw her satin robe on before going into her room and opening the balcony door for the flame-haired saiyan to enter.

She slid the door open and leaned against it, quirking her eyebrow suggestively. "Hey there, big guy, looking for a good time?" she asked seductively, hardly able to keep herself from laughing.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "You are a crude woman."

Her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "That's why you like me, though."

"Hn. I came to tell you that the cape for my armor is to be scarlet silk velvet, and it should be this long," he said, moving his hand down to his calves to show her. He nodded when he was sure he had remembered all his requirements. "Also, you will wear a matching red dress. I don't care about anything else."

"Why all the specifications?" she asked, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "I am the Prince of all Saiyans, and I am going to dress like it. It is the same attire I wore as a child before… my kingdom was destroyed." He mumbled the last part and looked up at the sky, hazy from the city. He frowned, again reminded of the impossibility of seeing the stars from his present location.

"And why must I wear red?"

He turned so she couldn't see the flush in his cheeks. "It's the traditional color worn by the prince's intended…"

Bulma's eyes widened and she put one hand over her heart. He didn't have to finish his sentence for her to know what he meant. The fear of commitment reared its ugly head for a moment before she got it under control again. She nodded and told him, "Then I'll wear red. I'll go shopping for your cape and my dress tomorrow. I won't make you come with me."

The saiyan sighed in relief and turned back to her. "As if you could." He smirked and stepped closer to her until she could feel his warmth radiating from his body. His tail wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. She gasped and put her hands on his muscular chest as she looked deep into his obsidian eyes.

"I suppose not," she murmured. She winked at him and turned around and took a step away but he pulled her flush against his chest and held her there. Only the cool, thin satin separated their heated flesh from touching and he growled low in frustration. He wanted so much to feel her smooth skin against his as they mated, but he had to wait. He _would_ wait if it killed him. He slid one hand inside her robe and stroked her flat belly until the scent of her arousal reached his senses and he moved his hand up higher.

Bulma leaned back against him and arched her back a little when his rough hand reached her breast. A soft moan betrayed her desire for more as he teased her. The quiet sound was music to his ears and he nuzzled into her neck and kissed down to her shoulder.

"Go to bed, Woman," he purred before shoving her away and leaping to his own balcony. He went into his room disregarding her demands for him to come back and took his breastplate out of his closet. It was undoubtedly a wreck. Two huge holes, one in the front where the bald midget hit him and the other in the back where Frieza had clobbered him half to death. And then the hole that went through the center of his chest over his heart, in the front and out the back. The only remaining sign of his fatal wound. He turned it over in his hands, examining it closely for the first time since he had been wished to the mudball.

'Should I be proud of the signs of defeat?' he wondered as he set the armor on the bed and sat down next to it. 'Are they signs of defeat? Physically, I was beaten, killed, but it was the triumph of my spirit as I broke free from my life of bondage.' What was a life of bondage other than one of shame? He had bragged for years about his saiyan pride, but had it ever truly shown before the day he died? It was the most painful thing he had ever experienced but also the most liberating. He concluded that physical defeat was nothing to be ashamed of in lieu of gaining his absolute freedom. He had died as a free man at last, a proud saiyan prince.

Vegeta plucked a single feathery strand of hair from his head and bit his wrist until his sharp teeth punctured his thick skin, drawing blood. He refused to think on the ease with which he could ignore the pain since it was so routine; he didn't acknowledge the fact that he had added another invisible scar to hundreds of others lining his forearms where he had bitten himself for the sake of feeling numbing pain when he was a boy. He dipped the strand of hair in his deep red blood and started painting a symbol resembling an anchor on the left breast of his armor.

When he was finished he set his armor aside again and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if it was worthwhile to dress in the attire of a saiyan prince anymore. What kingdom did he have? He had no subjects, no planet, no home. He was the last of the true saiyans. And yet his title of prince was one he held with pride, it was one he had worked his entire life to live up to even without his people. He couldn't abandon it now just because he had found a new place to live. He had touted his royalty with defiant pride in his servitude under the lizard. So there was no more saiyan empire for him to rule, that didn't change who and what he was: Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, most powerful being in the universe. He would be revered.

He wished.

No one on the little backwater planet cared about his royal status or his practically infinite power. Not a single one of the humans gave a shit, not even the ones who knew what he was capable of. Least of all his blue-haired woman, the female who he had his sight set on, the only other being whose opinion he cared about, if only slightly. The only other living saiyan in the universe, who also lived on the pathetic mudball, the last of his dead race, couldn't care less that he was supposed to be his prince. His title was empty, meaningless, as dead as his kingdom.

He turned over onto his stomach and buried his face in the mattress, his tail swaying sadly between his legs. Vegeta knew that mucking around in his mind, remembering the past, imagining his future or what could have been, was dangerous to his sanity, but it was a habit he could not break. A ritual that had become a part of his everyday life. His life was filled with tales of what-if's, should-have-been's, could-have-been's, would-have-been's. He hated thinking about them all, hated remembering he was born to rule and was forced to serve. It killed him inside whenever his inner demons started their rampage. His heart threatened to stop beating, his mind begged to be shut off, his stomach clenched sickeningly, and his lungs refused to inhale. His memories never faded with time, though he desperately wished they would. He wanted to forget, forget who he was, where he was from, what he had done, what he was meant for.

Eventually the idea would strike him that he was dishonoring his people by thinking along those lines. It was true, he had to live with incredible mental pain each day, every moment, and it only intensified when he slept. If he could live without sleep he would if only to avoid the nightmares altogether. But despite his suffering, he had to continue living to restore honor to his lost race. He couldn't mope around longing for a different life when he should be living in the present, coping with what fate had dealt him and moving on. When he was Frieza's soldier he had hardly thought about how things would have been different if his kingdom still existed; he was too filled with hate and vengeance to care. Now that the object of his rage and loathing was gone for good, he found himself reflecting on his misfortunes entirely too frequently.

The saiyan knew that his emotions were weakening him since they were too stale to draw energy from. He had never acknowledged them in his years of servitude, but they had been present, hiding behind his anger, festering. The rot fueled his anger, and his anger fueled his will to go on living. But now the anger had died out and he was left only with the emotional scars he had been unaware of for so long and had no idea what to do about them. He knew that he needed to heal, and he had started on the path of recovery, but it was a long and treacherous road down which he often backslid. He was caught in a rut as he tried to come to terms with his insignificance in the universe. He had dreamt of power at one time, but now he hardly cared for it. Now he was a nobody, granted the most powerful nobody ever born, but a nobody nevertheless because he chose to remain on a useless mudball with a weak human female instead of choosing intergalactic conquest.

'Just look at the proud Prince of all Saiyans,' he thought bitterly. 'Groomed for the throne of the most powerful race in the universe, living on a backwater planet, content to stay with a human, receiving no respect, not being feared, with no authority over anything but his own body. It's pathetic, really.' He smiled wryly and traced his finger over the royal crest painted on his breastplate. 'The crown prince of Vegeta-sei, living the life of a saiyan of old: honorable, unafraid of instincts and desires. The way it always should have been. The way all saiyans should have lived. When they gave up that up, they gave up their freedom and lives.'

He heaved a deep sigh that rose from the bottom of his aching soul and flopped onto his back again. "I could have been great," he mumbled, "but I can be better than great now. I have become the legendary, more powerful than all my ancestors. I will never serve again, and I will live a fulfilling life I never could have had as king."

Vegeta sat up and curled his tail casually around his waist. Content with his eternal role as prince, he was able to once again shelve his misery and come back to his present life. He pulled a pair of boxers out of his dresser and changed into them, deciding to forgo his shower in favor of more sleep. He was more tired than he would have liked to admit. Curling into the fetal position in his nest, he pulled the blankets over him until only his hair was visible and fell asleep.

After the saiyan left, Bulma went back inside her room and sat down at her vanity, glaring at her reflection. She was more than frustrated with the saiyan's seductive behavior; he had the nasty habit of getting her downright horny and then leaving with no explanation. And yet every time he touched her she found it impossible to resist, hoping that for once he would go a little farther, but he never did. Never. She knew he wanted to, she could feel it. The bulge in his pants was unmistakable. She pounded her fists on the vanity and threw her hairbrush angrily at the wall after detangling her damp hair.

"Why does he always stop?" she grumbled. "If he's going to do that then he could at least have the courtesy to _not_ get me hot and bothered." She snorted at her own wording and shook her head. "Next time I should just tell him to stop before he starts and we can avoid the whole problem." That was an unrealistic plan and she knew it. She _needed_ him to touch her.

Bulma slipped out of her robe and put on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. She didn't care what she looked like since no one was going to see her anyway. That was a depressing thought considering how much she wanted someone to see and care. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "How long before he takes the next step?" she wondered aloud as she went into her bathroom to brush her teeth.

In the past few weeks the most he had done with her, physically, was touch her naked flesh _underneath_ her clothes. He had never even seen what he was touching. Whereas in the first few days of their new relationship he had seemed unable to stop kissing her, tasting her, he would now go for days without so much as embracing her. She could tell it wasn't from a lack of interest in her, but rather an increase in interest in his training as he came closer to reaching his desired power level. She hoped she wouldn't always be second in his priorities below power. It was unbearable going for so long with feeling his strong arms wrapped around her, without feeling his hot lips pressed against hers. She admitted it: she was addicted.

She dropped her toothbrush back in the cup next to the sink and studied herself in her mirror. The redness in her eyes told of her sleepiness. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and ran her hand down her neck and shoulder where her saiyan lover had kissed her earlier. Her skin still felt hot to touch and she smiled slightly as she turned away from her reflection and went back to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed.

"I have to remember he's 'courting' me with alien customs. Maybe it was normal for saiyans to get each other so sexually frustrated they couldn't stand it anymore and they had a hot night of wild sex and… stuff." Bulma shrugged after stating her theory of saiyan sexuality and set her alarm clock before lying down and pulling her covers up to her chin and sleeping.

The next day Bulma went shopping after lunch, having finally convinced Vegeta to allow her to measure him so she knew how long his cape would need to be. She drove into the city, not really knowing where to go to find a cape. Maybe she would just have to buy the material and have it fashioned into a cape. Would he like some embroidery on it? He hadn't said anything about it and she didn't want to force human fashion on him, so she decided against it. She ended up going to four different fabric stores before she finally found one where they had real silk velvet with the right color to boot. The bright scarlet, which almost appeared orange in some lighting, was beautiful. She bought enough of the fabric for a cape and capsulated it.

Then she went to the same formalwear store where she had taken Vegeta two years earlier, the same store where she always bought her banquet dresses. Enrique was there again, happy as ever to see her and more than willing to help her find the perfect dress. The only problem he had was finding a dress that matched the unique scarlet of the velvet of Vegeta's cape.

"Miss Brief, this is a lovely color, but I'm afraid I don't have any gowns with that exact shade. Does it have to be exactly the same?" he asked, begging her in his mind to say no.

She nodded apologetically and shrugged. "Yes, Enrique, I'm afraid it does. Look, would it be possible to find a white dress and dye it, or pick a style of dress and have it made by tomorrow evening? There has to be something you can do for me." She gave him her sweetest puppy dog eyes and pouted a little.

"Ah, señorita, you know that is a hard deadline to meet!" He slapped his arms against his sides in resignation as he nodded. "But for you I can do it."

"You are _the_ best!" she cheered as she ran over to the rack of one-of-a-kind dresses and started rifling through them hastily, eager to find the 'perfect' one. After a few minutes she squealed in delight as she pulled one of the rack and held it up for Enrique to see. "This one! It's gorgeous!"

The dress, with a high neckline, asymmetrical wrapped bodice and floor-length, flowing skirt was unique and classy. The satiny material was sure to turn heads as it caught the light, and the tight bodice would hug her curves in an alluring, yet elegant, manner. It must have been taken straight out of a fairy tale, some princess being robbed of her favorite gown. Bulma smiled at that thought; after all, she was being escorted by a _real_ prince, didn't that make her practically a princess herself?

"Perfect, perfect!" Enrique gasped, "You must try it on!"

Giggling at her friend's enthusiasm and the mental image of how she would look in the dress, Bulma ran to the nearest fitting room and quickly changed, admiring herself in the mirror and running her hands over the smooth material. Perfect was an understatement. With the brightest smile she had worn in months she stepped out of the fitting room and strode to the alteration room with the grace of a princess.

Enrique followed her, marveling at the beauty of the dress and how well it already fit the blue-haired heiress. "I swear you're going to make me a straight man," he joked as he started pinning the hem of the dress to bring it up an inch.

Bulma laughed and told him, "That would be too bad, since I'm taken."

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. "You're kidding! Who's the lucky man?" He finished his pinning and stood back to make sure the hem was even all around.

"Remember Vegeta? The guy with the black, spiky hair?"

Enrique nodded and pulled the dress in a little around her hips. "Ah, yes, the edgy little man who looked like a god. I'm jealous." He grinned at her and stuck a couple more pins in the dress until it was fitted just right.

"That's the one," she chirped, "He's taking me to the banquet again tomorrow night. I can't wait to see his reaction when he sees me in this." She wiggled her hips a little and winked at Enrique.

He laughed with her and walked with her back to the fitting room. A minute later she came back out, holding the dress out to him as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "You'll have it dyed by tomorrow afternoon? Do you need a swatch of the velvet to match it? Oh, and I'll need shoes too!"

"Yes and yes, and I have you covered, Miss Brief," Enrique drawled as he led her to the front of the store to look at their shoe selection. Together they picked out a pair of white shoes with a heel the same height as the ones she was wearing and decided to have them dyed the same color as the dress.

Bulma was at the register ready to pay when two more thoughts hit her. "I was wondering, would it be possible to have you make the cape for Vegeta? And do you have any shawls I could have made the same color?"

Enrique nodded as he started entering in the prices for her purchases. Bulma clapped in excitement and practically danced out of the boutique, singing her joy to the world. She was going to look like a princess and Vegeta wasn't going to be able to resist her. With a dress so perfect and a royal escort, she felt like she was in a real live fairy tale. And the banquet was going to be, for perhaps the first time, a wonderful night to remember forever.

_A/N: I guess there's not much to say here. I feel like this section of the story is kind of boring. So, I need some motivation to update soon. Reviews? Speaking of, thanks to all my regular reviewers. You know who you are. I can't even tell you how encouraging it is when you just tell me you liked the chapter. It really does mean a lot to me as a writer._

_I might also mention that I don't _hate_ Trunks. I love Mirai..._

_Song: "Rainbow in the Dark" by Dio_


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

_Steal me, deal me, anyway you heal me  
Maim me, tame me, you can never change me  
Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me  
Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me_

It was Saturday evening and Bulma was getting ready for the annual Capsule Corp banquet. She had given Vegeta his cape and went in to her room to shower and dress. She was more than excited to show the saiyan the gown she bought for the occasion. She sat at her vanity to apply her makeup and fix her hair, pulling it back into a French twist with diamond studded combs. She grinned at her reflection, showing off her dazzling white teeth, and stood to go look herself over in her full length mirror.

"You are hot," she complimented herself as she smoothed out the scarlet skirt over her hips and twirled in front of the mirror. The dress clung to her in all the right places, accentuating her curves and making her already slender waist appear even thinner. It was not revealing, since it had a high neckline, but the way it hugged her body, her shape was hardly left to the imagination. She stepped into her shoes and draped her shawl over her shoulders before taking one last look at herself in the mirror. She was the embodiment of beauty.

Vegeta finished putting on his new cape with the plain brass buttons he had attached to the shoulders of his breastplate. He spun into a sweep kick to make sure his mobility was in no way compromised and that the cape would stay secure. Satisfied, he pulled his white gloves on and ran his hand through his hair and then smoothed out the silky fur on his tail as it wrapped casually around his waist.

In his mirror he looked at himself with a stoic expression. His navy blue bodysuit, repaired where it had been torn, covered his skin where the holes in his armor were for the sake of decency. Holes in the armor may have been acceptable to saiyans, but not in the bodysuit underneath as well. That ranked them among low class soldiers who did not earn the right to new armor after defeat in battles. Broken armor, while not typically worn by the royal family, since the royal family was not often involved directly in battle, was a symbol of honor as a great warrior. Vegeta's ancestors were the strongest line of saiyans, but they were also the tacticians who only fought when their superior strength was required. As such, they were recognized more for their power and leadership than their experience in battle. But Vegeta was not only a prince, but also a battle-hardened warrior, and he would display both personas, which were both important to him as part of his identity.

His fingers followed the cracks and breaks in his armor as he felt a familiar swell of pride mixed with pain and shame. He hadn't worn a cape and royal crest since he was a boy, before his home planet was destroyed. When his kingdom was stolen from him, and thus the significance of his title, he gave up the princely attire, sinking into the ranks of Frieza's army. But now he was a free soul again and he would rise above the mediocre as he reclaimed his title as Prince of all Saiyans, refusing to be presented as anything less.

He stood tall and proud as he gazed at his somber reflection with his chin held high, shoulders rolled back, and arms resting at his sides. Despite his short stature, his demeanor gave the impression that he was a tall man, regal and mysterious. Satisfied with his appearance, he whirled around to leave his room, his scarlet cape rippling behind him.

It was almost 6:30PM and the guests would be arriving any minute, so Bulma rushed downstairs to meet up with her parents and make sure everything was prepared for the banquet. But when she was halfway down the stairs she saw a shock of black hair and slowed her pace as the saiyan prince came into view below. He glanced over his shoulder at her when he heard her coming, but he had to do a double take and turned all the way around, his eyes glued to her as she descended the last few steps.

"Hey, Vegeta," she said softly as he took her hand and led her to where her parents were standing. He appraised her, not unkindly, as his eyes roved over her quickly and nodded in approval. The scarlet of her dress perfectly matched his cape, making the couple easily distinguishable.

"Oh sweetie!" Mrs. Brief squealed as she gathered her daughter in an embrace, "You look like a princess! That color is just beautiful on you!"

Bulma blushed lightly and replied, "Thanks, Mom." She moved on to her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek and complimented his neatly tailored tuxedo. It was, perhaps, the only suit he had that never looked disheveled. She cast a sidelong glance at her escort, starting to wonder if it was a good idea to allow him to wear his armor. True, he looked fantastic in it, but it was still horribly broken. But she had never seen him look so strong and proud and knew that he couldn't look better in the finest tuxedo Earth had to offer.

She linked arms with Vegeta when the first guests started arriving and politely introduced him as the crown prince of all saiyans of Vegeta-sei. Though his face remained stoic, occasionally slipping into a smirk, Bulma could tell that his ego was bloated when he saw the reactions of her employees when they found out he was not only a real prince, but a prince of an alien race. Some of them expressed blatant disbelief, others curiosity, and some fear. While at first she had been hesitant about being so open with his alien heritage, despite the NDA, she was practically shouting it from the rooftops by the time the last guests had moved on to the banquet hall, thrilled to see Vegeta even more confident than usual. It was so contagious Bulma was feeling increasingly secure in herself and the prospect of divulging information about Vegeta.

The Briefs and Vegeta followed their guests to the banquet hall once they had all filed in and began their rounds of mingling with the heads of the various departments of Capsule Corp. As long as Bulma stayed with Vegeta, she noticed fewer people approaching her to strike up conversations, which was both relieving and unnerving. A rush of doubt washed through her as she wondered again if had been wise to tell them that Vegeta was, in fact, an alien from another planet. She shook that thought out of her head and moved to another group of chattering guests to make small talk.

Vegeta recognized three of the women in the gathering and bowed his head to them in acknowledgement. "Monika, Julie, Tammy," he said as he directed his gaze to each of them. The flirtatious glances he had endured two years ago were replaced with thinly veiled fear as they nodded in greeting and inched back a step. He couldn't care less about them, but etiquette demanded he reinforce acquaintances by letting them know he remembered them from their last meeting. His cool gaze drifted over the rest of the people in the group as Bulma spoke to them.

He smirked slightly at their unease around him and gently pulled the blue-haired heiress closer to him so he could casually hang his arm around her waist. His attention was diverted when he saw a tall, thin figure approaching from the side, and when he recognized the man he protectively wrapped his tail around her waist and dropped his arm to his side.

"Hello, Miss Brief," Carl Milton said, much more confidently than when the saiyan had last seen him.

Bulma turned her head and gave a smile that resembled a grimace as she held her hand out to him. "Hello, Mr. Milton. How have automotives been treating you?" She ripped her hand away from him as soon as possible without being obvious in her disgust.

He gave a toothy grin as his eyes roamed over her figure. "It's good, it's been very good. I think I have some great new innovative ideas that will revolutionize the hoverbike."

"That's great," she said, "I look forward to hearing about it in your presentation."

"Actually, I was hoping to talk some of it over with you in private before presenting it to the department heads," he murmured as his eyes shifted over the crowd uneasily.

That was more than Vegeta could put up with. He knew the man's intentions and had no qualms with pointing them out and preventing them from coming to fruition. He tugged Bulma closer until her back was pressed against him and bared his sharp canine to the man as he growled, "You will not _talk_ to her in private, you pervert. Take your roaming eyes and frisking hands and get the hell away from my woman."

To say that Bulma was shocked by the saiyan's blunt accusation was an understatement as her eyes widened and she twisted around to look him in the eye. Her jaw dropped when she saw the ferocity in his glare and turned an apologetic look to Carl. She didn't like him by any means, but surely he was horribly embarrassed after having been accused of wanting to do more than talk with the corporation's vice president behind closed doors. But what she saw when she faced him was a furious look directed at Vegeta, which was not something she had expected.

"Look here, _alien_," Carl hissed, "I don't know what you're trying to imply, but I would never do anything less than professional with Miss Brief."

Vegeta scoffed at the man's attempted insult and bravery and started to pull Bulma to another gathering of employees. "Fool, do not get on my bad side or you might not live to tell about it," he warned, his obsidian eyes flickering teal.

"Vegeta!" Bulma admonished once they were out of earshot, "Could you _not_ go around making enemies all the time?" She whacked his arm and gave him an angry glare before plastering a smile on as they reached a group of guests.

The prince snorted but stayed silent for the rest of the time spent mingling before the banquet began. Everyone sat at the long table and waited as they were served by the bots that had been passing out glasses of champagne and hors d'oeuvres only minutes ago. As he did last time, he pulled Bulma's chair closer to his own and wrapped his tail around her waist for the duration of the meal, only letting go when she went to give her presentation and promptly coiling it around her again when she took her seat after.

When the other presentations began, Vegeta leaned over to whisper, "You have gained the respect of a few of the people here since the last time I attended this foolish banquet."

Bulma's eyes lit up with some relief and curiosity. She really had been trying to take her role as vice president more seriously since she had learned of the contempt of some of her employees. Perhaps it had worked after all. Her eyes quickly scanned over the guests seated at the table before resting on the saiyan at her side. "Which ones?" she asked, hardly able to conceal her excitement. Vegeta proceeded to nod to the ones who had previously shown jealousy or indignation at her status in the company. She followed his gestures and a wide grin broke out across her face when she learned how many she had turned to her side.

Vegeta sat still as he listened to the ongoing presentation, always keeping each guest under his watchful eye. He found that this time around he needed to remind the woman to listen less frequently and was impressed to see her knowledge of the projects and ideas running in each of the departments as she asked questions and voiced concerns after each speech. He gently tightened his tail around her waist as a way of giving approval.

After another long presentation, Bulma asked him quietly, "So, any more women jealous that I'm yours this year?" She winked at him and rested her hand on his thigh under the table.

He chuckled and gestured his head to four women before turning back to see her reaction. If he wasn't mistaken, she looked irritated more than happy. He figured she was starting to get as protective over him as he was over her. His smirk turned to a grin as he stroked her belly with the tip of his tail. "As if I care for them, Woman," he purred.

She shot her gaze up to his and blushed lightly. "I know, but I still don't even want them looking at you. You're mine."

He shook his head seriously. "No, you're _mine_. It doesn't go both ways." He leaned into her and nuzzled into her neck and gently nipped her shoulder before straightening in his chair again. He saw that a few heads had turned and several women looked upset, but he shrugged it off. So what if anyone knew he was interested in her? He wasn't ashamed of it.

"Whatever," she mumbled. When she saw that his attention had returned to the speaker she slowly inched her hand up on his leg until it was precariously close to his crotch and stroked gently. She thought she saw him flinch but couldn't be sure as his profile wasn't giving anything away. She bit her bottom lip and moved her hand a little closer to the prize.

"You would do well to stop that at once," he growled quietly.

Bulma smiled coyly and, instead of heeding his warning, boldly moved her hand to his crotch and rubbed it with the palm of her hand. She gave a short 'eep' when a large hand clamped around her wrist and pushed her arm away.

"You're no fun," she whined, thrusting her bottom lip out in a pout even though Vegeta wasn't looking at her.

He shot her an irritated glance. "This is not the time or place for your crudity, Woman." She felt the tip of his tail flicking agitatedly against her and sighed. He was right. Again. But damn did he look fine; she just wanted to get her hands all over him.

The rest of the presentations passed by slowly and Bulma found her attention wandering despite her best efforts to listen carefully. She just wasn't interested in what the department heads had to say; either she already knew what they were talking about or it wasn't terribly important. Either way, all she wanted was to get the guests out of the compound so she could have Vegeta to herself. What she would do with him, she didn't know, but that didn't matter.

Vegeta was, as usual, surveying the guests for any signs of ill intent, veiled threats, or other malice, all the while listening intently to each of the speeches even though they did not concern him in the least. At times he found himself snorting or scoffing at the primitive technology they were so proudly presenting as innovative inventions that were never before seen. Maybe not on the mudball, but much of it had been thought of, produced, and discarded as it became obsolete in more advanced civilizations. Even though he was largely preoccupied with the goings-on of the banquet, he could still sense the blue-haired woman's restlessness and the fragrant scent of her arousal as the night wore on. Why she was so excited was a mystery to him since he wasn't even touching her, aside from his tail around her waist, which rarely had any effect on her. He tried to follow her gaze to find out what might be arousing her, but it seemed to drift into nothingness. He shook his head and tried to ignore his own building desire stemming from hers. She was probably just thinking vulgar thoughts, he figured.

And the saiyan was correct. Bulma's mind was mucking around in the gutter and below as she continued glancing his way, eyes roaming over his body, his sharp profile, his regal aura. She could feel the heat from his body in his close proximity and felt it seeping through her from where his tail was wrapped around her. The tip was still flicking against her belly, so subtly she doubted he was aware he was doing it.

When the final presentation was finished, Bulma dragged herself out of her chair to complete her rounds as hostess, though what she really wanted to do was shove every last one of them out the door. She put her arm through Vegeta's and plastered a fake smile onto her face as she worked her way through the crowd, cheerfully asking and answering questions, congratulating department achievements, expressing interest in hearing more about upcoming projects, etc. None of it was entirely honest since at the time she couldn't care less about anything having to do with business.

The crowd was thinning out when Bulma walked over to a larger gathering and started some more small talk. Unfortunately, there was a particular employee in that group who was holding a bit of a grudge against her escort.

"So I'm curious, would you happen to know anything about the alien attack that occurred in East City a few years ago?"

The rest of the friendly chatting ceased into a dead silence as all eyes turned to Bulma and Vegeta. Her eyes widened in shock and his lips curled into an evil smirk, making several of the people standing closer to him back away. They didn't like the way his canine was bared at them or the murderous look in his eyes.

Bulma's mouth opened to answer, but Vegeta cut her off. "Fool, you want to know if I _know_ anything about the so-called alien attack?" He snorted and shook his head. "Here's a secret—"

He was cut off when Bulma's louder voice overrode his. "What is there to know?"

Carl Milton's visage darkened at the obvious cover-up. No wonder there was a random, mandatory NDA two days ago. Something was going to slip sometime, and the corporation's heiress wanted that information to remain confidential. He knew he was bound by that contract, and breaking it would result in his termination from the company, no doubt being placed on a blacklist that would keep him from ever finding employment again, but he was seriously considering taking the risk to blow the freakish alien's cover. No one made a fool of him in front of _the_ Bulma Brief and got away with it. Especially not some diminutive punk-haired alien.

"What is there to know? You tell me," he spat as his eyes locked on the saiyan.

Bulma tugged Vegeta's arm as she whispered, "Come on, let's go somewhere else." She knew that something like this would likely come up, but she hadn't prepared herself for it, and she didn't think it would be a good idea yet to let her employees know about his dark history. Especially when it concerned trying to destroy the planet they called home.

Vegeta sneered at the other man and resisted the woman's pleas. "The secret is this," he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "I was one of the aliens who destroyed that city." His voice was low, barely audible, and cold. It sent shivers down Bulma's spine and she could see everyone within earshot also shuddering as fear overtook them. She closed her eyes and waited for the screaming to start, but there was only stunned silence.

The silence dragged on until some nervous laughter broke out among some of the members of the small group. "You're kidding," one woman said, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.

The saiyan snorted and fixed his icy glare on Carl, challenging him to make a response to his revelation. The other man shied away under his scrutiny, at least temporarily silenced. He smirked again and curled his tail around Bulma's waist. "I do not lie," he said curtly as he turned to leave, pulling Bulma along with him.

"You _are_ lying," Carl shouted after him, having found his courage once the onyx eyes were no longer burning through him. "You're just a man in a funny costume with a fake tail."

Vegeta rounded on him, teeth bared as a growl rumbled in his chest. He crouched a little, eyes blazing as he prepared himself subconsciously to attack the fool who dared slander his honor. His tail unwrapped from Bulma's waist and flicked angrily behind him.

"I told you," he hissed, "that I do not lie. It would be dishonorable and weak. Now if you do not shut up, _human_, then I _will_ kill you." He shot a glance at the blue-haired woman. "Or at least severely maim you. Do you want to try your chances?"

Bulma started to panic when she saw Vegeta losing control. She knew that if there was one thing he would not stand for, it was someone attacking his pride and honor. She remembered how he reacted when he thought she was trying to take that away from him. Was she doomed to have terrible experiences with him at every banquet because of some perceived slight against him? She groaned and put her hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"Vegeta, don't do anything rash," she begged. "Please, just drop it. He's an idiot, you know he is, don't waste your time on him. And for Kami's sake stop scaring everyone!"

Indeed, everyone who was still in the banquet hall, including the elder Briefs, were quite frightened by his feral behavior. They had never heard such an open threat accompanied by real intent to follow through with it. Something about the prince made them know he wasn't afraid to do what he said he would. Most of the women were glad he would be doing it to Carl, if anyone, but that was beside the point. They were trapped in the same room as a raging psychopath!

Vegeta shrugged Bulma's hand off and snapped his teeth at her, giving her a nonverbal warning to back off. His tail was now bristled and his impossibly black eyes were burning holes through the foolish man.

But Carl refused to let himself be intimidated. Perhaps he was too stupid to know the real danger he was in. "What, that's supposed to scare me? Don't like being caught in a lie? I don't care who or what you are, you're nothing!"

In the blink of an eye Vegeta pounced on Carl, knocking him to the ground before he could even cry out. "Nothing? I am only the most powerful being in the universe," he snarled as his hand gripped the man's throat. "My strength is greater than you could fathom. Do you want to know how easy it would be for me to snap your neck right now?"

Carl's eyes bugged out as he shook his head from side to side. He could feel the weight of the creature on top of him, much heavier than a man his size should have been, and the hand on his throat was anything but gentle. And he didn't even know how he had gotten down on the floor; the movement was too quick to see. All he knew was that he was looking death in the eye and he didn't like it one bit. "N-no, please d-don't."

"No, Vegeta, get off him!" Bulma shrieked as she ran over to him and tried to pull him off her perverted employee. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

Vegeta gave a final growl before he pushed himself back to his feet, purposely digging his knee into Carl's gut with his full weight as he moved. A contemptuous snarl briefly crossed his features when he heard the man's grunt of pain. "Fool," he muttered as he casually coiled his tail around Bulma's waist and led her away.

"Now why did you have to go and do that?" she hissed at him angrily. "I can't believe this! I've never been so embarrassed in my…"

"Hush, Woman," he drawled. He gazed at her coolly and directed her to another group of guests who backed away when they saw him. "I merely put him in his place."

"You did more than that," she snapped.

The saiyan shrugged and reintroduced himself to the people he had met before, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After a few minutes of talking it was clear that the tension in the air was lessening until it was completely eradicated with one of his witty comments. Bulma's anger dissipated with the anxiety and she found herself impressed with his ability to bounce back from the situation with Carl, not to mention how he could socialize so well when he actually put an effort into it. She realized that he was, indeed, capable of being not only civil, but pleasant at social functions. He had been trained as a prince and diplomat, after all. That was one part of him that she often forgot since it was often overshadowed by his hot temper that would flare up at the drop of a hat.

She thought that maybe it hadn't been abnormal to have any 'incidents' at a meeting or formal dinner when there were saiyans involved, and that was why Vegeta didn't seem to think anything of it when he attacked Carl. While they may have been able to solve problems with words and treaties, she doubted that they would be able to _always_ avoid resorting to violence, especially when someone attacked them personally. So, in Vegeta's culture, most likely, his action would have been seen not only as acceptable, but expected. He had told her when he asked to escort her to the banquet that he would be himself, a saiyan prince. And that was what he was doing, showing that he was not human and would not hesitate to settle a score his way.

It wasn't long before the last of the guests left as the hour was growing late. Bulma was relieved to see them go without intense fear of Vegeta. Well, aside from Carl, that was. But in a way he deserved what he got and she didn't dwell on it aside from the occasional thought about what he might say or do in retaliation. At first she was sure he would go to the press with his newfound information, but after Vegeta tackled him and threatened to kill him, she wasn't so sure. If he valued his life, he would probably keep his mouth shut to avoid the saiyan's wrath.

"Well," she said airily as the door closed behind the last Capsule Corp employee, "That was interesting, to say the least."

"Hn."

"You didn't enjoy it? I could have sworn you were making jokes at the end there."

"The whole thing was awful," he groaned, "I never want to attend one of these again. The boredom is enough to make me kill someone."

Bulma chuckled. "You almost did."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow and pulled her close to him. "I would have if he had been worth it." The darkness in his eyes told her that he wasn't joking, which sent a thrill through her as she was once again reminded of the ferocity of the man she had fallen in love with. He was still dangerous and unpredictable, wild. And that made him all the more attractive.

"And I would never forgive you." She tilted her head up to look deep into his obsidian eyes and braced herself against his chest.

He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent as he nipped her soft skin. "You would forgive me anything, Woman." Bulma wanted to deny that, thinking she couldn't possibly forgive him if he were to hurt her friends or destroy another city. But the scary thing was that she knew she would because she was blinded by her infatuation with the dark prince.

"Regardless…" She was cut off by his lips pressing against hers in a soft but passionate kiss. The rest of her argument died as his touch sent shockwaves of lust through her body and she tried to deepen the kiss, but he wouldn't let her.

She pulled back after a minute of frustration and studied his eyes to get a clue to what he was thinking. Why was he resisting everything she had tried with him that night? His face was expressionless, stony, and she had no idea how to crack it.

"Is something wrong?" she breathed.

His eyebrow raised and he smirked slightly. "Why would something be wrong?"

She shrugged and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood for her advances. Was that so hard to believe? She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her thoughts were disrupted when Vegeta slid his hands to the backs of her thighs and pulled them up around his waist, the skirt of her dress hiked up to her hips. He buried his face in her neck and kissed and nipped her as he carried her upstairs to her room.

Once inside he set her down and practically tore her dress off as he yanked the zipper down the side of her bodice and pushed it off her shoulders. Effortlessly her gown dropped to the floor with a whisper of satin and chiffon. She blushed when his eyes took in her ivory body, clad only in her shoes and matching panties and bra. She didn't have time to think about his reaction because she found herself pressed against him with her mouth captured in a passionate kiss.

Her legs turned to jell-o as he further deepened the kiss and his rough hands slid up and down her back and sides. Before she could fall his arms were supporting her fully and his tail wrapped around her thigh, the tip twitching against her dangerously close to her crotch. It sent tingles through her body and she moaned as his tongue probed her mouth and he laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her.

He bit her lip as his hands moved down and squeezed her ass and pulled her tighter against him. His lips moved along her jaw and down her neck, shoulder, and chest as she arched her back trying to get closer to him. Bulma stroked his hair and moaned as his mouth moved lightly across her breasts before dipping down to her belly. He trailed down to her panties and over to her hip. She yelped when she felt his sharp teeth sink into her skin.

"Vegeta, stop!" she squeaked.

She saw his lips curl in a grin, though his teeth were still digging into her flesh. She squirmed to get away but it only made his bite hurt more. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he stopped biting her and licked the deep red blood off her milky white skin. When the bite mark stopped bleeding he moved down and licked up her inner thigh, eliciting a soft moan from his blue-haired woman. He could smell the thick musk of her arousal and nearly lost control as he neared the source of the sweet scent.

Knowing the risk of continuing with the game, Vegeta pulled back from her and stood to leave. The beast was raging inside, growing stronger each minute he exposed himself to her scent, her beauty, the sound of her moaning. Without a glance backward he strode out of her room, scarlet cape billowing behind him. Once the door slammed behind him he rubbed his hand over his face and admonished himself for again putting himself in such a position. Shaking his head and snorting to get her scent out of his nose, he hastily retreated to his own room for a long, cold shower he wasn't sure would help him out this time.

"That was anticlimactic," Bulma muttered when the saiyan disappeared behind the door. Once again left highly aroused, she considered trying to relieve her frustration but decided not to resort to such a pathetic act of desperation. "Why does he always stop? Is he scared?" She heard the shower in the room next door turn on and giggled. Maybe he wasn't so immune to her.

Vegeta knew that he was playing with fire every time he was alone with the woman. He found himself increasingly attracted to her, and it was becoming harder for him to resist his most primal urges. He held no doubt that she would allow him to go pretty far physically, maybe as far as mating, but he wouldn't do that, not until there was a commitment made by both parties. And he wasn't ready to commit yet and feared that she wasn't either. There had been a time when he wouldn't have cared, when he would have taken her as soon as she was willing – if not before. But he had vowed to live with the highest saiyan honor, which dictated his need to be abstinent.

'A year,' he told himself, 'only a year. That's how long saiyans courted. Sometimes not even that long. I can resist my hormones that long.' His inner voice was somewhat sardonic as he thought about how hard it was becoming to restrain himself. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he leaned against the frigid shower wall.

Bulma sat on the edge of the bed and inspected the bite mark on her hip. She had no idea why he had done that but had an idea it had something to do with a saiyan ritual of sorts. Whatever the case, she wasn't going to risk letting it get infected and wanted to avoid scarring, so she stood up and went into the bathroom to apply some antibacterial ointment and a bandage.

As she passed her full length mirror she stopped and looked at herself. Her hair was messy now, falling down around her shoulders and framing her flushed face. She was still wearing her red shoes that laced halfway up her calves along with her bra and panties. No wonder Vegeta left so fast, she was completely irresistible.

While she was in the bathroom she washed the makeup off her face, brushed her teeth, and let her hair down to comb out the tangles until her wavy tresses fell over her shoulders and down her back and chest. She smiled at her reflection and gently touched the bite, surprised that it didn't hurt at all. Prodding harder, she found there was still no pain. She quirked an eyebrow and peeled the bandage off to find the bite mark already healed, leaving only tiny white scars in a half circle. They wouldn't even be visible if she wasn't looking for them.

"Weird," she mumbled, mystified by her rapid healing. Her eyes widened. "Did he do something to make it heal?" That didn't make sense. She remembered how long it had taken for one of Vegeta's bites to heal on Goku's shoulder. But that was strange too, since saiyans typically healed exceptionally fast. Granted Goku had a large bite taken _out_ of his shoulder.

She was still tracing her finger over the tiny scars when she heard Vegeta's shower turn off. Deciding she needed to satisfy her curiosity, as well as some sexual frustration, Bulma put her new black silk robe on for decency purposes and left her room, heading down the hall to the next door. Without hesitation she knocked on the door and waited for the saiyan's gruff voice to yell at her to go away, which she interpreted as 'come in.' But instead all she heard was the sound of the door being locked.

"Hey! Vegeta!" Bulma yelled and pounded on the door. "What's the deal?"

"You wouldn't leave even if I told you to, so I'm keeping you out this way."

"Well, that's true," she mumbled with some amusement. "I want to ask you something."

"That I don't want to answer." Inside his room Vegeta was walking away from the door, a towel wrapped around his hips. He picked up a pair of boxers from his dresser and put them on while the blue-haired woman continued to pound on the door.

Bulma growled in frustration and pounded on the door harder. She could wake up the whole neighborhood and she wouldn't care. "Vegeta! Open this door! It won't take long."

Vegeta walked in a circle around his nest a few times before lying down in the middle and curling up. He already knew what she wanted to ask about and already knew he didn't have a complete answer because he didn't fully understand the issue himself. He shook his head and coiled his tail loosely around his waist and pulled the blankets over himself.

"Vegeta!" Bulma kicked the door and almost fell over. "Come on!" She waited a while but there was no answer. Groaning exasperatedly, she slapped her arms against her sides and scowled at the barrier between her and the saiyan. She knew there was no way for her to get him to pay attention to her if he didn't want to. She huffed angrily and pouted as she went back to her own room in defeat.

She kicked her door shut behind her and shrugged her robe off as she sat down on the edge of her bed to untie the straps of her shoes. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when her feet were released from their bondage and she laid back on the bed. She turned the light off and slid under the covers to sleep.

_A/N: There you have it, another chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. I did. By the way, I'm not into the whole neck-biting/bonding/mating thing that seems to permeate the world of DBZ fanfiction. I don't know where or why it originated, so don't get any ideas about that with Vegeta biting Bulma. He will bite her occasionally, but not as a messed up vampiric saiyan mating ritual of sorts. It's more like... his animal side coming out and he gives her 'bites of love' instead of kisses... or something. I don't know. I just think he would bite her. So maybe it is a saiyan thing, but not a formal ritual or anything._

_And by the way, we're 2/3 done with the story! In celebration, you should review!  
_

_Song: "I Think I'm Paranoid" by Garbage_


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

_From day one I led you on  
I'm sorry girl, but I can't stay  
Things have changed, they're not the same  
Now I must walk the other way_

Bulma was mad. Furious. Livid. She was fuming when she stormed into the compound after her morning jog without the saiyan prince at her side. She was cold and shivering, her face was red from the frigid morning air, and she wanted to punch something. Or someone. Preferably an alien who lived with her, but there wasn't one around at the time. Late November was ushering in winter quickly despite the blue-haired woman's protests, but that wasn't what she was so upset about. No, she was mad at a certain prince who had left her by herself in the middle of their routine jog. And why? Because she told him it was ok to move on in their relationship!

"Stupid, s-stubborn saiyan," she mumbled through chattering teeth. "He s-should've been h-hap-py that I t-told him I w-was ready f-for the n-next step." Maybe she was allowing herself to be ordered around by her hormones, but it had been a _long_ time since she'd gotten a good lay and she was getting tired of waiting for Vegeta to come around. He'd been playing the get-her-so-horny-she-wanted-to-explode game for too long. She was done with games. She wanted him to finish what he started for a change.

She walked into the warm kitchen and sighed in relief as the heat from the stove washed away the coldness clinging to her clothes and skin. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and shook her head so it floated down over her shoulders.

"Good morning, Bulma," Mrs. Brief chimed as she set a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of her daughter when she sat at the table.

Bulma smiled as best she could. "Morning, Mom."

"Where's Mr. Vegeta? Didn't he go with you today, sweetie?" The blonde woman returned to mixing waffle batter alternately with pouring it into the waffle iron. The sweet aroma wafted through the room until Bulma's mouth was watering.

"He left with me, but didn't come back with me," Bulma grumbled bitterly. She picked up the mug, relishing the warmth spreading through her icy hands. She sipped the hot chocolate slowly and watched her mother preparing breakfast.

"Oh," Mrs. Brief said happily, "I'm sure he'll back on time for breakfast. He wouldn't miss it, you know." She smiled at her blue-haired daughter and poured more batter onto the iron. If she noticed Bulma's foul mood she was very good at ignoring it.

"Great," Bulma grunted. She was still angry with him for leaving her after she had basically invited him to have sex with her. She felt rejected, which never put her in a good mood. She hadn't been _that_ brazen, had she? In her opinion, she was very subtle and thought his reaction was not only bizarre and aggravating, but exaggerated.

_"So, Vegeta, we've been together a while…"_

_ "Hn." He cast her a sidelong glance, wondering what she was getting at. For the past couple days she kept making weird comments about the longevity of their courtship._

_ She sighed when he seemed oblivious to what she was really trying to say. How could someone so smart be so dense at the same time? She shook her head slightly and mulled over the words running through her mind, trying to pick out the best ones. Remembering how he reacted when she initially started showing interest in him, she was wary about scaring him off. He was rather prudish for being an ex-rapist._

_ For a few minutes the only sounds were of their steady breathing and the dead leaves of autumn crunching under their feet as the jogged through West City Park. Gathering her courage, Bulma tried again. "Well, what I mean to say is that humans, at this point in a relationship, start taking it up a notch. You know what I mean?"_

_ He raised an eyebrow at her and turned one corner of his mouth down. He knew, but he wasn't going to admit that he knew._

_ "Don't you think it's time we… got more…intimate? Physically?"_

_ At this point the saiyan grimaced and sped up his pace a little, preparing himself to make a break for it if she persisted in her vulgar suggestion. "It is too early," he muttered._

_ "Kami, Vegeta! It's been months! How much longer do you intend to wait?"_

_ That was when he left her side, sprinting ahead of her and taking a different route than normal. He didn't look back once as she shouted after him. Somehow, she offended him and now she was stuck returning home by herself. She felt foolish for asking – practically demanding – sex from the saiyan prince. How ironic, it seemed, that she was the one pushing for sex before he was ready. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?_

What man, saiyan or human, would turn his nose up at sex with Bulma Brief? She shook her head and nursed her hot chocolate. He hadn't even given a reason for his quick departure. Once the words left her mouth, he gave her a strange look before running off in another direction, far too fast for her to hope of catching up with him. It was incredibly frustrating how he was good at running from her, both metaphorically and literally.

Vegeta was still running through a slummy part of the city when he realized it was time for breakfast. He wanted to go back to the compound and eat, but he wasn't ready to see Bulma yet. She hadn't said it in the exact words 'I want to mate,' but he caught her meaning well enough. He was still unsure of her commitment to him and he hadn't yet figured out whether she was worth being tied down to for life. Besides, it had only been five months since they had started their 'relationship' and that was much too soon to consummate their commitment even if it was there. He stopped running and came to a halt as he pulled the zipper of his hoodie up.

'Foolish woman,' he thought, 'doesn't she know what she was asking of me? Are humans really so vile that they treat mating as if it means nothing?' He sighed and started walking back toward the compound, his feet dragging as he subconsciously resisted returning. He knew that saiyans were hardly saints when it came to sexual practices, but they had never taken mating lightly. It was an act performed only by committed partners or with designated prostitutes, but never just for kicks between a male and a female who hadn't chosen each other for life mates. He also knew that his blue-haired woman had already defiled herself with the weakling, which was one reason he still had his reservations about mating with her. She was dirty, used, previously claimed and rejected. Why would he want someone else's trash? But she wasn't trash in any form of the word. She was beautiful inside and out, a beacon shining in his darkness. An angel.

The saiyan's stomach growled and he frowned down at it. Why did it think it had the right to decide where he went? He didn't want to return to the compound and see his woman, who was probably mad as a hornet, yet he knew he couldn't stay away from her either. She was no doubt enraged with him for leaving her as he had, but he needed immediate escape from her so he could think and rein in his beast. He glanced around and saw no one around so he took off into the air to go back to Capsule Corp and a very irritated loud-mouthed woman he couldn't get enough of.

When he walked into the kitchen back at the compound the Briefs had already started eating, but there was a tall stack of waffles on a plate in front of his seat. He grunted in response to their greetings and sat down and drenched his waffles in syrup before eating them, one whole waffle at a time. He kept his tail to himself for once and ignored the woman sitting across from him, though she hadn't bothered trying to talk to him anyway. All in all, the meal passed quickly and quietly and Vegeta left as soon as he was finished to go train.

And so the next couple weeks passed with Bulma seeing neither hide nor tail of the saiyan except at meals and in the mornings for their jogs. She was initially angry at him for once again distancing himself from her, but she was relieved that, at least, he kept to their morning routine despite his increased silence and unwillingness to respond to her statements or answer her questions, no matter how innocent. She never brought up their physical relationship again, for which he was glad, but that didn't mean it wasn't still on her mind. As the days passed she found herself craving his touch, his taste, his smell, but she didn't get any of it. He had closed himself off from her.

Vegeta, meanwhile, was afraid he was losing his sanity again the more he stayed away from his blue-haired woman. He didn't trust himself to be with her, yet he was being consumed by his desire for her. Now that she had essentially given her consent for him to mate with her, the only thing keeping him from doing it was his own honor, and even that was wearing thin as the beast inside clawed and raged to be set free. Her scent was enough to push him over the edge, so he knew that touching her would tear down his last walls of restraint. That was something he was not willing to do, not yet. Maybe not ever; he still couldn't decide if he wanted to be mated to her. He hadn't even broached the topic with her and didn't know how to anyway. The idea of taking a mate was one he hardly thought about before he became attracted to her. As the last prince of Vegeta-sei he always counted it as dishonorable to take a mate from another race, only delaying the inevitable extinction of his race by procreating with an alien female. Now that the thought of mating with Bulma was often on his mind, he didn't know what to do. Would it really be so dishonorable? His thoughts only seemed to become more jumbled the more the thought about it until he was so frustrated with the whole thing that he tried to shove it from his mind altogether. That was simple enough, as long as he kept himself distant from the aforementioned human female. And that was why he avoided her like the plague.

Then one night Bulma got tired of him avoiding her and went into his room when she heard the shower running. She sat on the bed and waited for him to come out so she could address his irritating behavior with arms crossed and jaw set in determination. Unfortunately for her, Vegeta sensed her ki in his room and refused to come out of the bathroom long after his shower was over. He made up his mind that he would stay in there all night if he had to because, in his fatigued state, his reasoning would easily take a backseat and he would act on his lust and hate himself for it later. And so he sat on the edge of the bathtub and waited for her to either give up or fall asleep so he could leave to hide out somewhere else.

'What have I been reduced to?' he mused. 'I, the Prince of all Saiyans, am hiding in a bathroom because a human female is in my quarters. I've been a fool to get so involved with her and now I can't easily back out. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to. Damn woman, she's making me go soft.'

Bulma had expected the saiyan to be obstinate, but this was ridiculous. She had been waiting for over two hours, it was getting late, and she was dead tired. Trying to stifle a yawn, she laid down on the bed and lost the fight to keep her eyes open. A few minutes later, she fell asleep.

Vegeta sensed the woman's ki dropping as she drifted to sleep and sighed in relief. He was rather tired of sitting in his tiny self-imposed prison and quietly opened the door to check and make sure she was really sleeping. Satisfied, he went into the room and grabbed a pair of boxers before softly padding out of the room and closing the door behind him. He practically ran downstairs to the living room where he put his boxers on and sprawled out on the couch. He yawned and stretched lazily before falling asleep.

Early in the morning, long before dawn, Vegeta woke up and curled into a defensive position as he surveyed his surroundings, trying to beat away the disorientation he often felt when he woke up from a deep sleep. After a minute he let out the breath he had been holding and shook his head. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head and wrapped his tail loosely around his waist.

As he walked toward the gravity room he cracked his neck and muttered something about foolish women, uncomfortable couches, and dishonorable requests. He scratched his head with one hand as he punched in the entry code to the gravity room and walked in, not yet fully awake. He went through his stretches before turning the gravity console to 850Gs and started his warm- up routine. His strength was almost as great as it had been a year earlier. He wouldn't stop there, though, instead continuing to train until he was much stronger than ever before. Then he could put Kakarrot back in his place as third-class trash and he would defeat the androids himself.

"Time to do some serious training," he said as he powered up to super saiyan. He had been neglecting his training in his ascended state, preferring to build his power in his base form. But now it was time to work on his endurance again since it had likely been affected by his lack of training as a super saiyan. The test would be seeing how long he could go without descending.

His warm-ups completed, Vegeta turned the gravity up to 1100Gs and started his kata. He hadn't even checked to see what time it was, but he knew he didn't have much time before his woman came to get him to go jogging. He pondered the idea of refusing to go with her since he had more intensive training to do, but thought better of it. Even though he was avoiding her for the sake of his honor, he couldn't deny his need to at least see her. If he wanted to hold onto whatever scraps of his sanity remained, he couldn't cut her out of his life any more than he already had.

Bulma woke up later than usual, which was reasonable considering how late she had gone to bed. She yawned and rolled out of bed, looking around in confusion as her mind worked to remember where she was and why she was there. When she finally recalled her reason for being in Vegeta's room, she scowled and stormed back to her room. So he had managed to avoid her yet again even though she had had him cornered. He was impossible!

She changed into a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie before going downstairs to find the saiyan who would most likely be in the gravity room, as usual. She heard the hum of the gravity simulator, which confirmed her thoughts. She stopped in front of the metal door and banged on it, yelling at the saiyan to come out. She was in a pretty bad mood because of his little disappearing act. He was better than Houdini.

After only a minute of waiting the simulator powered down and the door opened, revealing a blonde spiky-haired man with teal eyes and a furry golden appendage wrapped around his waist. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and his cross trainers and looked vaguely annoyed at being interrupted, which was normal.

"You ready to go?" she asked as she looked him up and down. It had been a long time since she had seen him as a super saiyan. Subconsciously she raised her hand to touch his hard chest and traced her fingers over his sculpted muscles.

He grunted and pushed past her to go find more suitable clothing for the weather outside. It was cooler than it had been, which meant that he might require more than his training shorts and a sweater. In his room he found a pair of navy blue training pants, a t-shirt, and a gray hoodie. He put them on and went back down to the front door where Bulma was waiting for him.

She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Finally decided it was too cold for shorts, huh?"

"Whatever, Woman, let's go already," he growled as he went out the door and started walking toward the gate. Just because he was with her didn't mean he had to talk to her. The sight and scent of her was too much already, he didn't need to hear her too. Besides, he was in a bit of a foul mood after the stunt she pulled the night before with chasing him out of his own room and wasn't in a talkative mood – as if he ever was. It didn't occur to either of them how much they were annoying each other with their stubborn behavior.

Bulma shrugged and grinned as she followed him out of the compound. She had been irritated at first when she realized her failed attempt to get him to talk to her the previous night but let it roll off her shoulders in favor of amusement at his prudishness. The reason behind his avoiding her was still unknown so she just made the assumption that he was scared, or at least uncertain of _what_ came next and _how_ to do it.

As they jogged, she noticed that whenever she spoke to him he would distance himself from her a little more. He almost never responded to her, and when he did, it was usually with a short grunt or scoff. She knew he wasn't much of a conversationalist, but his recent lack of communication was beginning to bother her more than she could stand. She wanted to yell at him and demand why he was being so cold but knew that wouldn't get any reasonable answer. So she held her tongue and eventually gave up trying to talk with him, completing their jog in silence, which he seemed strangely relived about.

As soon as breakfast was finished, Vegeta went back to the gravity room to continue his training. It had been over three hours since he had transformed and his body was hardly feeling any sort of strain, raising his hope that perhaps rebuilding his endurance wouldn't be as hard as he had originally thought. He cranked the gravity up to 1150Gs and started a battle with an old opponent.

By lunch time he was starting to tire, but he pushed himself on in his battle that wouldn't end for another two hours. His stomach growled and his muscles began to ache, but he ignored his physical discomfort. He knew he was growing dehydrated as he perspired heavily from the heat of the room and his intense activity, but he pressed on harder, refusing to quit regardless of his bodily needs. At 12:45PM the blue-haired woman knocked on the door and called him to lunch, but her words landed on deaf ears. The saiyan's mind was in another time and place and there was no way to rouse him from his mental absence.

Bulma frowned at the door and pounded her hand against it again. "Vegeta, what are you doing in there? Don't you want to come eat?" The only sounds she heard coming from inside were grunts, explosions, and feet and hands bouncing of the walls, ceiling, and floor. Apparently he wasn't going to stop his training for anything. She shrugged and went back to the kitchen.

"Did you find him, sweetie?" Mrs. Brief asked as she set some sandwiches out on the table.

"He's still training," Bulma mumbled through a mouthful of potato chips. "I don't think he's going to eat for a while. By the way, he's training as a super saiyan."

Mrs. Brief's eyes opened wide for a split second before she ran to the pantry to check out the food inventory. "Oh dear, I'm going to have to go to the grocery store. He eats so much when he's super." She started writing out a list, ignoring everything else in the world around her as her concern for the saiyan's incredible appetite filled her mind.

"You can say that again," Bulma muttered. She took a bite out of a ham sandwich and started flipping through her mother's latest celebrity gossip magazine. She wasn't particularly interested in any of it, but it was something to entertain her while she ate.

When she finished eating she put her dishes in the sink and went back to her lab to try making some headway on her latest project. If she was lucky, she could get it finished within the month and start marketing it soon after. Another patent under the belt would boost her esteem.

It had been hard on her not seeing much of Vegeta lately. He hardly gave her the time of day even when he was around, and she began to wonder if she had said or done something wrong to offend him or make him think twice about being in a relationship with her. She was beginning to feel self-conscious when his eyes rarely turned to her and seemed to gloss over her when he did glance her way. He had barely touched her since the banquet almost three months earlier, but she had no idea why. And what little touching there had been severely decreased after she welcomed him to do more of it. Did he find her unattractive? Her insecurity was growing daily.

An hour before dinner, Vegeta was no longer able to stay ascended and his ki slipped away, leaving him exhausted and irate. At least this time he had managed to deactivate the gravity console before he lost his strength, so he didn't have to worry about being flattened on the floor like a pancake again. He wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned against the console as he downed a bottle of water.

"Eight and a half hours," he sighed as he sank down to the floor and leaned his head back against the console. His muscles were throbbing with pain from the excess ki that had been forced through them for so long. "It used to be weeks on end."

He rested a few minutes before he stood back up and stretched his tired muscles. He groaned slightly at the aching that had already hit full force but continued his cool down, knowing he would hurt a lot worse if he didn't. Figuring he had trained enough for the day, he left the gravity room and went up to his bedroom to take a shower before dinner. He sensed for his blue-haired woman's ki before he ventured through the halls since he didn't want to run into her if he didn't have to. He found that she was in her lab and dashed for his room.

Once in his room, he pulled his training shorts and shoes off and trudged into the shower where he planned on relaxing for as long as possible before it was time to eat. He turned the hot water on and let it run over his sore body as he leaned against the shower wall and tried to force the tension out of himself that was exacerbating his aches. It was six more months before the androids would come; he needed to be ready for them, which meant he needed to step up his game again. He felt that he had been slacking off lately and had to make up for lost time.

Forty-five minutes later he got out of the shower and dried before dressing in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray long-sleeved t-shirt. He went downstairs to dinner, where he sat silently and waited while Mrs. Brief set the food out on the table. He noticed that she had prepared more than usual, which he was thankful for because he was hungrier than usual. Somehow she must have gotten the word that he was training as a super saiyan again, probably from his woman, who he didn't bother acknowledging when she came in to eat.

Bulma watched in vague interest as Vegeta packed away nearly double the amount he regularly ate. She had nearly forgotten how much more food he needed when was training in his ascended state. While he was pigging out she picked at her food, not having much appetite. She was pining for him and he didn't even know it or at least didn't care. She sighed so many times through the meal one may have thought she had a respiratory problem, but all she wanted was for the saiyan to at least look at her.

When she had eaten all she could, she slowly nursed her glass of water and waited for the saiyan to finish eating. She knew it would take quite a while, but she was determined to have a word with him before he could get away. And so she sat silently, watching him and sipping her water for twenty minutes before he gave a contented sigh and pushed his dirty dishes away and stood up from his seat. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, but as usual it was directed elsewhere. She frowned and slammed her glass down on the table.

"Vegeta, I need to talk to you," she growled out.

His black eyes snapped to hers for a brief moment before he grunted and turned away again. Vegeta subtly gestured with his head for her to follow as he walked out the door and went in to the living room where he hoped they could get some privacy from her ridiculous eavesdropping parents. She quickly got up and went after him and positioned herself in front of the only exit so that he couldn't just walk out when he got tired of hearing what she had to say.

Vegeta turned to his blue-haired woman and crossed his arms over his chest with his tail wrapped snugly around his waist. "What do you want, Woman?"

"I want to know why you're avoiding me," she blurted out. She hadn't really thought ahead to figure out what she should say to him. "It's a little upsetting how I never see you now."

He snorted and sneered at her. "Do you really need to ask? If you do, then I don't need to tell you anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she shrieked. "I've been trying to figure it out for weeks but the only explanation I can come up with is that you're tired of me or I'm not good enough for you or something. If that's true, then just tell me so I can know and move on."

The saiyan's jaw dropped a little when he heard her pouring her feelings out to him. Her voice was loaded with fear of rejection and loneliness, feelings he knew rather well. He shook his head and regained his stoic expression. "If you believe that then you are a fool."

"What else am I supposed to think? It's obvious how uncomfortable you are around me."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm 'uncomfortable' because I don't trust myself to be around you anymore. You made your foolish, dishonorable invitation to me and then expect me to act the same as usual around you?"

"What invitation?" Bulma thought she knew what he was talking about, but she didn't know what he meant by foolish and dishonorable. Wasn't it everything good? It seemed right to her, but then, she never knew what was right with him. Most likely she had gone and offended him again because she didn't understand him. Their culture barrier had, once again, caused a disruption in the growth of their relationship. Figures.

"You want me to mate with you!" he shouted. "I cannot do that with you, Woman. Not unless you and I are willing to be mated for life."

Bulma was stunned into silence. She gave him a blank look that told him that she didn't comprehend what he had told her. He growled with irritation and embarrassment and started to pace, the tip of his tail flicking agitatedly. He didn't want to explain mating to her, not now. Not ever, maybe. He wasn't sure. Why did the little human female make his life so complicated?

"A lot of humans have sex before they make that commitment," she mumbled.

Vegeta rounded on her and watched her fidget under his scrutiny. She felt two inches tall, like she was being judged for everything she had ever done. "Saiyans do not," he replied shortly.

Suddenly, she felt very dirty. Used, rejected. She never would have thought saiyans were more stringent morally when it came to sexual practices than humans were. Weren't they supposed to be barbaric? Animalistic? Driven by instincts? Her eyes focused on the texture of the carpet between her feet as she shuffled nervously. Was that why he wouldn't do anything with her? Was that why he didn't know if he wanted to commit to her? Because she had already given herself to another man? But that wasn't fair, was it? He had raped… who knows how many women in his life. That wasn't the same though. It wasn't sex so much as an assertion of his power over them that happened to involve sexual organs. Not that that was an excuse for it.

"Oh," she murmured, "Then you don't want to mate with me for life?"

He looked at her pointedly and exhaled slowly. "I don't know." He stalked over and brushed past her out the door and upstairs to his room, hoping it would be a safe haven from her.

_A/N: Drama! As to where we are in the three year timeline... This chapter ends in the beginning of December before the androids come, which is in May. The next six months are going to pass pretty fast, so hang on. I'll try to make the passage of time clear. I know I've been skipping a lot since Vegeta and Bulma got together and it's probably a little confusing. Review!  
_

_Song: "Confusion" by The Zutons_


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

_Where'd you go? I miss you so  
Seems like forever that you've been gone  
Please come back home_

Bulma didn't see Vegeta once for the month following his strange revelation because he was making himself incredibly scarce. He was never in the gravity room when she came to find him, so she couldn't barge in on him, he wasn't in his bedroom at night when she went to find him, he was never in the kitchen when she went to meals or to find snacks, and he could never be found in the library, recreation room, or any of his other previous hideouts. In fact, if it hadn't been for the gargantuan amounts of groceries her mother had to keep buying, Bulma would have thought he wasn't living at the compound at all.

One week after his disappearance she was beginning to really miss him. Two weeks after, she was growing worried about him and couldn't keep her mind off him. Three weeks and she was craving his touch or even a short glimpse of him if only to know he was alright. And once a month had passed, she was pining for him and desperately needed to see him, feel him, anything. She was going insane being separated from him for so long; it was a madness she had never thought possible, to have her life centered on someone who was never around. She thought about him, dreamed about him, called out for him, but he was as a ghost to her. Gone, silent, invisible.

But if Bulma thought she was losing her mind, Vegeta was in a much worse state. He went out of his way to avoid her, to make sure he wasn't around wherever she would be. He had taken up residence in another guestroom on the far side of the compound she had likely forgotten even existed and trained in the indoor garden with his micro-gravity simulator all day. He left at odd times of day to get food, times when he knew neither his blue-haired woman nor her mother would be present to bother him. He had taken to sparring with Goku frequently to have an excuse to leave the compound and sometimes spent entire days or nights in the wilderness, training and hunting. He had made immense gains in his ability to hold his super saiyan level for days, but he felt like he could have made even more progress had his mind been fully in the game.

What distracted him, much to his chagrin, was the very creature he was trying to forget. She filled his thoughts and multiplied his loneliness until he screamed in anguish. His sanity, never stable to begin with, would slip in and out until he was constantly disoriented. Vegeta knew that distancing himself from his pack was having a negative impact on him, but he was reluctant to see them again after his confession. How he was ever going to figure out the answer to the woman's question was what he couldn't figure out: _'Then you don't want to mate with me for life?'_

She had sounded disappointed, though he doubted she knew the magnitude of what she was asking him. Did that mean she wanted him, forever? As much as he wanted to believe she did, he couldn't believe it. They weren't right for each other in any sense of the word, how could they be? She was good, he was bad, end of story. They were polar opposites, incompatible. And yet he never felt right without her anymore, which was becoming more evident every second he avoided her presence. Living without her was becoming nearly impossible. He didn't just want her anymore, he needed her, and that was what scared him away from her the most.

On a rare sunny afternoon, in the crisp January air, Vegeta dropped out of his ascended form and fell to the ground outside the compound. He had been training in a warmer region of the world for the past two days and the cold hit him hard, sucking the last dregs of his remaining energy out of his overused body. He grunted when he hit the frozen ground and rolled onto his back to stare up at the pale blue sky. Cerulean, like the woman's silky hair. He sighed and sat up.

Bulma had been looking out the kitchen window when she saw something fall down, perhaps a someone. Her eyes followed it until it hit the ground, immediately recognizing the sturdy frame and black flame of hair of the saiyan prince. She gasped and ran outside to help him, since it looked like he had fallen pretty hard. Probably he wasn't too badly injured, but with him it was always hard to tell and she wasn't taking chances.

Not bothering with putting on a coat, Bulma ran out the front door in only her jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, her bare feet pattering against the frozen ground. "Are you ok, Vegeta?" she shouted as she came closer to him.

He turned to look at her, instantly losing himself in her blue gaze, filled with concern and… something he couldn't identify. He didn't answer, instead just looked deeper and deeper into her until she felt like her entire soul had been bared to him. She squatted down next to him and rubbed his cheek with the palm of her hand. Even in the freezing cold his skin was hot against hers and she sighed when she felt his heat running through her body like a wave starting in her fingers. Then he nuzzled into her hand and pressed his nose against her wrist, sniffing her sweet scent with fervent interest.

Bulma smiled and then started giggling when he pulled her into his lap and rested his head on her shoulder with his nose in the crook of her neck where he could breathe her scent and feel her against him. He brushed her hair behind her shoulder, his rough fingers lingering in her blue tresses as he reacquainted himself with every detail of her person. He decided he had been away from her for entirely too long and would never leave her side again if it killed him.

She felt a warm, furry snake coiling around her thigh and grinned with a joy she hadn't felt in weeks. Or months. Vegeta was again laying claim on her and it was the best thing she could ever hope for. She hadn't realized until he was gone how much she needed him. In his absence she longed for him with a passion she had never known; his presence made her feel a completeness she hadn't had with anyone ever before. She was his. She would always be his.

"So do you?" she asked quietly. She knew she didn't need to specify more.

His hot breath fluttered across her neck as he exhaled shakily. His tail wrapped tighter around her leg as he nodded his head. Bulma was sure her heart stopped beating when he gave his affirmation; he wasn't rejecting her anymore, he wanted to stay with her, for life. She would have squealed in excitement, but she knew how much he hated when she did that because of his sensitive hearing. Instead, she ran her fingers through his feathery mane and kissed his head.

"Me too."

Vegeta's jaw dropped and face flushed a deep red, which he was glad she couldn't see. Instinctively he held her closer, trapping her in a tight embrace she could hardly breathe in. But then he shook his head and murmured, "Not yet. Wait until the androids are defeated."

Not only would that meet his time requirements for 'courting' his blue-haired woman, but it would ensure that she wouldn't mate with someone who might die very soon. He could not and would not put her through bereavement so soon after mating. Though he had prepared for the androids, they still posed a serious threat that he would not take lightly. The lavender-haired boy had said that he died in the battle. He didn't know any of the details. Had he been a super saiyan? Had he been caught by surprise? Had he underestimated them and fought poorly? Without any useful information, he couldn't be sure he would make it through the battle alive, though he was feeling confident that he could destroy them single-handedly. Regardless, the risk was there and he would not mate with the woman until he was sure he had a long life ahead of him. That was only fair to her and the honorable thing for him to do. Wait. Abstain. Go crazy.

He was beginning to wonder when he started taking her feelings into consideration. Any other person would have been used to his advantage, for his pleasure, but he wasn't able to do that to her. It may have been because she was his pack mate, so he was developing a group mentality where the good of one is the good of all. Therefore, he couldn't hurt her or he would be hurting himself, his pride, everything that mattered to him. But he knew that wasn't the entirety of it because he was utterly unable to feel selfish around her anymore. It confused him, it scared him, but it didn't feel wrong. In fact, it felt very, very right to put someone else's well-being ahead of his own for a change. It gave his life more purpose and meaning when he was occupied with protecting and caring for another individual who would do the same for him, if she could. Why he knew she would, he didn't know, but he did. She would die for him, though he would never let her because he would sooner die than let anything harm her.

Bulma pulled back and studied Vegeta's expression. "Why wait?"

Vegeta sighed and shook his head. He didn't feel like explaining his reasoning to her, but he knew she wouldn't be happy until she heard it. She might not even agree with him. Actually, that was highly likely. "Because it's improper for a saiyan to mate before a year has passed since he expressed interest in a female. Besides, I could still die in the fight and you wouldn't want to be mated to me then."

"Isn't that all the more reason to do it _before_ the androids?"

"Shut up, Woman, you don't know what you're talking about," he murmured as he covered her lips with his own. If there was thing that was always sure to keep her quiet, it was kissing her, he had discovered. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, either.

Bulma practically melted when she felt his lips pressed against hers; it had been way too long since she had been kissed, too long since butterflies flitted around in her stomach at his touch, the sound of his deep voice. And now she knew that he would be with her forever, she would always be his. The cold of the winter day didn't reach her as she pressed her body against him, his warmth spreading through every inch of her. She sighed when he deepened the kiss and willingly allowed his tongue into her mouth. Every day spent without his presence was worth only a second of the bliss she was experiencing.

When they broke apart for air, she again studied his stoic features, searching for the feelings he would probably never openly express. But even his eyes were guarded and she couldn't get through his barriers. For a moment she feared she had simply forgotten how to read him, but she realized that, for some reason, he was hiding something from her. Blue met black as she looked for answers she couldn't find anywhere else.

Vegeta knew what she was hoping he would say or show, which was why he put his guard up to make sure she couldn't find out. Why wait until the androids were defeated? The reasons he had given were true, but there was one other that he hadn't shared and never would. Rooted deep in his concern for her was an intense fear that he wouldn't make it through the battle with the androids. Not only would he have lived a short, miserable life, only to be defeated by tin cans, but he would die without ever having known what it was to be mated to the woman. To be needed, wanted, trusted, respected, and depended on by another who he could freely give himself to: the one being he had ever known who he could open up to without fear of rejection.

Love was a foreign concept to Vegeta. He didn't know what it was, doubted he had ever been loved before, and wasn't sure he was capable of loving. How to express it was a mystery to him, why anyone would love another was nonsensical, and its significance was lost on him. He had heard of such a thing on other planets, but as far as he knew, such a feeling was given no name in his native tongue because it simply did not exist. Not to saiyans. Whether that was because they were incapable or unwilling to love, he didn't know. Perhaps 'love' was expressed by saiyans, just in a different way. Maybe it had a different meaning, or it was too complex to be named with one word. Whatever the case, he was both repulsed and fascinated by it. Love. It was what he had seen in her eyes when she ran over to him. What he found himself wanting from her.

Bulma leaned in to kiss him again, but he turned away so her lips brushed against his cheek. She furrowed her brows and examined his expression again, though it was still stoic. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "You hungry, highness?"

"Foolish question."

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. Not that it mattered if he was hungry or not, since she didn't plan on getting out of his lap anytime soon to get him food.

"Hn."

They were silent for a few minutes as they held each other in a tight embrace. But then Vegeta pushed himself off the ground, holding her close to him and walked to the front door. Inside, he unwound his tail from her thigh and took a few steps down the hall before growling over his shoulder, "I'm going to train."

'Why am I surprised?' she wondered as she watched him turning down the hall toward the gravity room. He could be the sweetest, most romantic man one second and a callous jerk the next. More than once she concluded he must either be bipolar or have multiple personalities or something. But she knew he was just _incredibly_ dedicated to his training. If he got paid for it, he would have quite a profitable career. While he finally admitted to being willing to commit himself to her for the rest of his life, he had more pressing matters to attend to: namely, preparing for battle in four months so he would _have_ a rest of his life.

Once in the familiar confines of the gravity room, Vegeta concentrated his energy until he was able to ascend to super saiyan again. It was draining, and he knew he wouldn't be able to maintain his ascension for long, but he was not going to waste any time training at a lower level if he could help it. His running record – post starvation – for time spent as a super saiyan was four days. Not bad, but he knew he had been capable of much longer periods of time before and he was determined to reach them again and then surpass them. He turned the gravity console to 1200Gs and started his training, ignoring his hunger, thirst, fatigue, and loneliness.

He flipped, dodged, blasted, and punched as he flew around the stuffy room in an intricate dance of alternating offense and defense as the training bots attacked and deflected his ki balls. Before long, he was sweating and panting, more from the effort of sustaining his high ki level than from the exercise itself. Even so, he continued dragging out the last fragments of strength still untapped in his body, unwilling to descend until he had no choice in the matter. And so he grit his teeth and pressed on in his self-destructive discipline.

Four months was all he had left to prepare for the android threat. Four short months. Where had all his time gone? Why did he still feel vulnerable to the threat even though he knew it was coming and had trained hard in all his free time? A worry he hadn't felt before was starting to seep into his conscious as he weaved through an onslaught of attacks from the bots. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than he had been three years ago. He had reached unchartered levels of power and discovered a new source of energy he had had his whole life. He had a new reason to live, a greater reason to live than he had ever had before. That was why he was worried; now that he knew what life had to offer, he was loathe to lose it. After three decades of nothing but hatred, violence, and insecurity, he had found love, peace, and stability. The new life he had been granted on Namek was different. He had new potential. He could make a fresh start, and he was going to. If only he could survive the battle with the androids.

What if the lavender-haired boy's prediction came true? What if, despite all his training, he still wasn't powerful enough to defeat them? What if he died before he could ever start a life in union with his blue-haired woman? What if…? Vegeta shook his head and refocused on his training. Thinking about what-ifs in the future were as dangerous as those from his past.

The next four months would pass rapidly, that he knew. The two and a half years leading up to this point had dragged on, the eager anticipation of a challenging battle looming so far in the distance making the wait nearly intolerable. But it was the year they would come. The androids would make their grand appearance in four months. Four. Was it enough time? He had no doubt that he was, indeed, stronger than Kakarrot, but did that make him strong _enough?_ Comparing himself to the third-class clown was pointless. If the boy, also a super saiyan (maybe), couldn't defeat the androids in the future, why would Kakarrot be able to? For that matter, why would _he_ be able to? Vegeta knew he was more powerful than the boy had been, if his power level during the fight with Frieza and 'spar' with Kakarrot were any indication of his true power. But did it matter? Just _how_ outclassed had the boy been by the androids?

Vegeta growled at his own thoughts and counterattacked a ki blast heading straight for him. But that move drained the last of his reserves from his body and he slammed onto the floor hard as he slipped out of his ascended state. Now he'd gone and done it. Again. He was stuck to the floor with a gravity level he couldn't handle in his base form and the deactivation button was across the room. He gave the deepest sigh he could muster and stared at the ceiling while his mind worked to push away the sensation of pain lingering on the fringes of his consciousness.

"I will not die," he whispered to himself. "I cannot die. The woman…"

His woman. His reason for living a new, improved life. His first real pack mate since the last of the true saiyans were gone. Raditz and Nappa, his foolish companions, were dead, but she lived and accepted him into her pack. The loner. The selfish, loathsome, murderous loner. She had been afraid of him, unable to trust him, and yet she took him into her home willingly. He frustrated her, used her, insulted her, and she put up with him. She did more than that, she learned to like him. Then love him. She could see his potential before he ever could, and she brought out the best in him when he still believed there was no good to be found. She refused to believe he was all evil despite him being convinced of it himself. She cared for him, providing food, shelter, clothing, and training equipment. She became his companion when he wasn't looking for one and took away the loneliness that would have killed him eventually. If not for her, he surely would have been dead again. Either from losing the will to live resulting from his loneliness or from injuries sustained in fights with Kakarrot. She was his savior. She was something he never thought he needed for all his pride and arrogance. But he couldn't deny it any longer and wouldn't bother trying. He needed her. And, well, he cared for her. Loved her? Not exactly, but he felt as close to loving her as a saiyan could get.

The crushing weight of his body made breathing difficult and movement impossible, but he hardly noticed as his mind drifted through his past, onto his present, and what he hoped would be his future. The ceiling loomed tauntingly above him, reminding him that he was trapped under his own weight, unable to rise and free himself from his sad condition. He closed his eyes and let his mind continue its wandering unhindered by visual stimuli.

It was later. How much later, the saiyan didn't know for sure. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his first in a long while, and rose into a sitting position on the floor of the gravity room. His excess weight had been lifted, his free mobility regained by some miraculous intervention by… the woman. Undoubtedly he would receive a lengthy lecture about being more careful when he trained. With a calm resolve he waited as the door to the gravity room opened and the soft, rapid footsteps of his blue-haired woman crossed the tile floor. The gravity console, across the room from him, told him that it was 9:12PM. Hours. It had been hours since he had fallen. Hours he had spent uselessly pinned to the floor. He was surprised he had survived, being practically incapable of breathing with an absurdly low amount of energy.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" Bulma asked as she knelt down next to the saiyan prince. "You could have at least grunted or something."

Vegeta snorted and shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. "I was… incapacitated at the moment." He laid back down on the floor, arms at his sides, as he resumed his staring contest with the ceiling.

Bulma raised an eyebrow and poked him in the chest with her index finger. "So you mean you overdid it _again_ and couldn't move or even muster the strength to answer me."

He grunted and took another deep breath, exhaling slowly, basking in the satisfaction of being able to fully fill his lungs with oxygen. Maybe he had overdone it. Maybe. But what other way was there to become stronger? To be able to achieve new levels of power? To be able to reach his potential, so that he could not only survive, but _live_? As a saiyan, he enjoyed physical activity. He wanted to spend his days fighting, refining his fighting techniques, preparing for battle. And yet, he hated training. He hated the way he ached, how he had to push himself above and beyond his limits daily, the way his body protested against his sheer determination and will. He hated how he ended each day marred with bruises, cuts, and burns. But that was his life. His chosen path as a warrior, though he could have given it up once he was freed.

"Honestly, Vegeta," Bulma chided, "I don't see why you do this to yourself. I know you need to train, but does it really do you any good to almost kill yourself every day?"

Vegeta turned his head so he could look up into her cerulean eyes as he answered, "I'm getting stronger, am I not?" What more was there to say? His goal was to increase his power, and he was accomplishing that by whatever means necessary. Certainly he could train as the other warriors did, but he utilized his unique physiology, knowing his power increased exponentially each time he was seriously injured. It seemed masochistic, but it was the quickest means to an end he desired.

She looked back into his obsidian depths and shook her head sadly. The temptation to yell at him, beg him not to hurt himself constantly, was there, but she refused to give in to it. She knew it did nothing more than frustrate him, if not disgust him. He hadn't killed himself yet, close as he had come many times, and she knew he never would. She was deeply concerned for him, but she knew better than to judge his methods. Admittedly, they were working. He was, indeed, growing stronger daily, beyond where he had been over a year before. If only he hadn't left the compound and so severely neglected himself. If only he hadn't had to regain what he had already accomplished. He could be so much farther along now, maybe to a level where he felt secure enough that he wouldn't push himself so hard without ever taking breaks. If only…

"You are, I know," she conceded. "But all that training has surely made you hungry. It's getting late, why don't you come to the kitchen and I'll warm up some leftovers for you?"

He nodded and drew his knees up to his chest before kicking himself up to his feet. He landed softly and wound his tail around his waist loosely as he pulled Bulma to her feet and walked out of the gravity room to take a shower while she worked on his meal.

Fifteen minutes later he found himself seated at the kitchen table with a growing pile of food laid out before him. Bulma was still busily working on heating food up for him while he started eating what was already done. He hardly realized how hungry he had actually become over the course of the day. Early that morning he had eaten a variety of fruits and some kind of deer – a light breakfast. And so, after skipping his daytime snacks and lunch, as well as dinner, he was quite famished and ate more ravenously than usual. It hadn't helped that he was a super saiyan through most of the day, which used up even more energy, heightening his metabolism. Bulma was doing well with keeping up with his appetite, but he certainly kept her on her toes.

When he was finally finished, he pushed back from the table and watched the woman as she cleared away his dishes. He wandered over to the sink as she started washing them and perched on the counter next to her, his dark eyes focusing on her slender hands as they worked. It wasn't long before her pale skin was pink and wrinkled from the prolonged immersion in the hot water. Still, she kept working, not seeming to notice how he was observing her doing her chore.

Several minutes passed before he broke the silence by asking, "Why do you do a servant's task, Woman?"

Bulma smiled as she rinsed another plate and set it in the dish drainer. "If I don't do it then who will? You may not have noticed, Vegeta, but we don't have 'servants' here."

He cocked his head and studied her carefully. "I am aware of that. But you have servant bots. And if you wanted, you could employee servants to do such trivial chores as this." When she made no reply, he took one of her hands in his and turned it over, examining it. He ran his calloused fingers over her wrinkled hand. "What happened to your hands?"

"What do you mean?" she asked as she pulled her hand away to resume washing. "You mean why do they look like prunes? It's just what happens when they've been in water a while."

Vegeta snorted and shook his head. "Strange humans," he muttered. He leaned back against the wall and stayed at her side until she was finished washing all the dishes, his tail thumping contentedly at his side on the counter. After she drained the water out of the sink and dried her hands, he hopped off the counter and grabbed Bulma, twisting her around so he had her pinned against the counter. Without a word he kissed her, gently but passionately.

Bulma's knees wobbled, forcing her to support herself with her arms against the counter behind her. A fiery desire swept through her body as his lips hungrily moved over hers. She knew he would be able to smell it on her and hoped desperately that he wouldn't be scared away again. Too often he had left when she started getting aroused, something she never understood. Instead of moving away, he pressed his body against hers closer and encircled her slim waist with his muscular arms. He stopped kissing her and put his forehead against hers as he looked deep into her blue eyes.

He was so close she could feel his breath against her, could smell his alien scent, could see only his black orbs piercing through her. There was no hostility in them, just… what? Curiosity, maybe. Definitely desire. Maybe something else? Need? She let out a shaky breath and allowed herself to fall into his infinitely dark depths. One of her small hands raised and stroked his thick hair, her eyes never leaving his.

Becoming lost in each other. Each felt as though they were a part of the other, incomplete when the other was gone. No formal commitment had been made, but it was as good as done. He would not change his mind once he decided he would stay with her. And she couldn't leave him; even if she wanted to, she had a feeling he wouldn't let her. She belonged to him. His.

Bulma found herself wanting the androids to hurry up and come so Vegeta could defeat them. Then, finally, they could be together, unhindered. A year would have passed, the threat of death would have been vanquished, and he would take her. They would begin their life together, officially. She smiled when she thought how they were practically engaged, then wondered if there was any sort of ceremony saiyans performed other than mating like humans had weddings. How would they become one anyway? She was human, so 'marrying' him as a saiyan would be strange, but the same could be said for him. Surely he wouldn't approve of marrying her in human terms, at least, not without whatever saiyan ritual as well.

"I can't wait for you to destroy the androids," she told him softly, her lips brushing lightly against his.

He smirked and quipped, "I thought you always put your faith in that fool Kakarrot?"

"Kakarrot Shmakarrot. Who cares about him? You're stronger anyway." So maybe she was stroking his ego a little. He deserved it after a hard day's work, right? Plus it might earn her another one of his mind-blowing kisses.

Vegeta's smirk broadened into an evil grin. "Damn right I am, Woman," he said as he captured her lips with his again. This time their hands began to roam over each other's bodies until the scent of arousal was thick in the air and only short gasps for breath and soft moans could be heard. Vegeta felt his control slipping, but he continued on anyway, indulging in her taste and scent he had been deprived of for too long. He knew it would be harder to stop the longer he continued, but at the moment all he cared about was being with his woman.

An hour later the saiyan seemed to wake from a trance as his lust raged inside, urging him onward. He looked down at his blue-haired woman underneath him, face flushed and eyes clouded with desire, panting and looking at him expectantly. His eyes lowered further until he saw that she was wearing only a bra and panties while he was in nothing more than boxers.

His eyes shot back up to hers and a frown formed on his face as he studied her. No doubt she wanted him to go further, break down the barrier he had set up. Forget his pride, his honor, his need to protect her. He shook his head and sat back, straddling her legs. Sniffing the air, he nearly choked on the scent of her arousal mixed with his own; while it wasn't unpleasant, it was unwelcome and heavy in the air. He needed to get away from her immediately. Frantically, he looked around, trying to figure out where they had ended up and growled when he saw that they were on her bed.

"Why'd you stop?" she mumbled, disappointed. She sat up too so she was face to face with him and bit her lip when she saw the panic flaring in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"This," he snarled as he leaped out of her bed and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He didn't stop until he was safely in his room with the door bolted shut. He shook his head again to clear his mind and went to the bathroom for a cold shower he was afraid wouldn't help him this time around.

"That insufferable…" Bulma started before groaning and flopping down on the bed again. She wanted to insult him, say something to make herself feel better. Tell herself he was just a pig-headed jerk. But, for once, she couldn't find it in herself to belittle him for what he did. "No," she told herself, "I won't disrespect his honor."

Of course she didn't have to be happy about his sudden, rushed departure. Rather, she was quite upset by it because she was, once more, left without release. A sigh passed through her lips, slightly swollen from the intensity of Vegeta's kissing. It'd be another long, lonely night.

_A/N: Well, I got nothing to say. Just review._

_Song: "Where'd You Go?" by Fort Minor_


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

_You're my only living savior  
Sometimes I hate ya,  
But I'm whipped_

Bulma shot awake as her covers were ripped away from her and her pillow disappeared from beneath her head. She sat up, looking for the culprit in the dim morning light, when her balcony door slid open to let more light and cold air in. She shivered as the late January morning cold settled into her previously warm room and groped around on her bed in search of her missing blankets.

"What is going on?" she mumbled sleepily when she couldn't find any blankets to block out the cold. With eyes half shut and barely awake, she looked around again to find the source of her discomfort.

She heard a snort from beside her bed and turned to see the godlike silhouette of the saiyan prince standing in front of the her balcony door. He tossed her pillow at her and barked, "Get out of bed, Woman. I won't mate with someone too lazy to get up."

Lazy? Who did he think he was calling lazy? She got up every morning before dawn (since dawn was so late in winter) and went jogging despite the bitter cold and darkness. It was lonely, running through the city when everyone else remained curled up in the warmth of their beds. She scowled at him before glancing at the clock. 7:10AM. Oh.

"Seven o'clock?" she shrieked, "How did it get that late? I could have sworn I set my alarm for 6:15!" She jumped out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a thermal long-sleeved shirt and ran into the bathroom to change. In two minutes she emerged from the bathroom again and sat on the edge of her bed as she put on her socks and running shoes. All the while, Vegeta was watching her with some amusement as she seemed to be going in overdrive because she was an hour late in her daily ritual. That's another thing he liked about her: she was quick to remedy her mistakes.

Bulma pulled her warmest hoodie on over her head and looked expectantly at Vegeta. Since he woke her up, surely he intended to go with her on her jog, but his back was turned to her and his tail was twitching slowly behind him. It didn't seem to convey any interest in what she was doing.

"You coming?" she asked, finally tiring of the silence and his lack of acknowledgement.

His head turned so she could see his angular profile and his tail wrapped itself loosely around his waist. "No. I have more important training to do." She was struck by his callous answer, but if she didn't misunderstand the tone in his voice, he wasn't particularly happy about his decision to abandon her to go on her morning jog alone.

She sighed and nodded. "Fine, I'll see you at breakfast then." As she walked out of her room she grabbed a hair tie from her vanity and pulled her long blue hair into a messy bun on her way downstairs. Taking a deep breath before the cold hit her head-on, she opened the front door and went out to start her jog. Since she had already wasted over an hour in her daily schedule, she wouldn't be able to run nearly as far as usual if she wanted to make it back to the compound in time for breakfast, but that didn't bother her too much. Tired as she was, the idea of jogging wasn't particularly thrilling. Having Vegeta with her would have made it so much easier to want to go out and exert herself. But alas, he had his own training to do. She missed the days when there wasn't even a question about whether or not he would go with her. He always went. It was an integral part of his daily routine and nothing could change it. Now, it was a real question every morning, and unfortunately today was one of the days when he declined her offer to accompany her.

Bulma had been gone for over half an hour and Vegeta was training hard in the gravity room, again ascended to super saiyan as he fought hard against the training bots. Though he wasn't with her, he was still keeping track of her by her ki so he didn't feel quite as lonely without being with her physically. And so, when he felt it spike with fear and it started moving much faster than before, his attention to her perked up. Searching for the source of her fear, he felt out another ki, slightly stronger, that was following her and slowly overtaking her. With a growl, he disappeared from the gravity room.

"Get away from me!" she screamed as she ducked down a narrow gap between two old buildings, hoping her pursuer would give up and leave. But there was no such luck as a burly man squeezed in behind her, hardly losing speed. She screamed again as she kept running, praying to Kami that she would be able to get away from him or someone would come to her rescue. The sooner the better, too.

The man laughed and kept chasing her, again picking up speed once through the narrow path and into a wider alleyway. "Come on, baby, don't play hard to get," he yelled. What fortune to find someone like _the_ Bulma Brief early in the morning! Who wouldn't want a piece of that? For being a bit drunk from his night spent at a nearby bar, the man was surprisingly able to run in a mostly straight line and keep up with the blue-haired heiress.

Bulma knew she needed to get somewhere more populated where the creep's pursuit would end. There was no way he would go after her if there were a bunch of witnesses around. Unfortunately, it was still early and she was in an area of the city that took longer to wake up than the business district. She was burning up what little energy she had to start with as she ran as fast as she could, and her breathing was becoming difficult as her lungs fought to take in more air. The cold was freezing her throat and she wanted nothing more than to collapse and regain her breath before continuing her flight from the monstrous man behind her.

"You wouldn't deny a man down on his luck a good time, would you?" the man laughed as he gained more ground on her. He could see she was tiring, and though he was too, he imagined he had more fight left in him than she did. He grinned and ran faster, eyes constantly scanning the area for anyone who might play witness to his crime.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, Bulma's legs started giving out on her and she could barely lift her feet up off the ground. She ran across a street but tripped over the curb and fell down with a shriek of surprise and dismay; if she fell down, there was no way she would be able to get up on time to keep running away. Her eyes shut as she waited for the pain of the sidewalk scraping the palms of her hands and her knees, but it never came as she instead felt the familiar security of two warm, strong arms wrapping around her waist and steadying her.

Her feet were still off the ground and eyes still clamped shut as her arms, seemingly on their own accord, shot around the neck of her savior and held him tight. Through ragged breaths, she gasped out, "Vegeta, thank Kami. Help me."

The large man skidded to a halt when a small but muscular man appeared out of nowhere and caught his blue-haired prey. While he might not have been afraid before, the glare he received made his courage melt away until he wanted to be dead. He didn't know how someone so small could make him feel such terror, but there was no denying it. Somehow, he knew that man was not one to mess with, and he had a feeling that he was in deep trouble by the way the man was holding the woman.

"How do you always find trouble like this, Woman?" Vegeta teased once he saw that the other man was not only frozen in place, but terrified beyond reason. His teal eyes continued to pierce the man's soul even as he spoke to Bulma, never letting his enemy out of sight.

Bulma gave him a shaky laugh and nuzzled into his chest. "Lucky, I guess." No longer afraid, she turned her head so she could see the man who had been chasing her and gave him a glare almost equal in hatred to Vegeta's. If the man hadn't been shaking in his boots before, he would be now.

Vegeta chuckled and coiled his tail around her waist. "You have a strange concept of luck, Woman. Now, what do I do with this scum?" He set her down and took a couple steps toward the man, tail still firmly grasping her waist.

The man, who looked more like a gorilla without all the hair, took a couple steps backward to maintain the distance between himself and the flame-haired, tailed man standing before him. He raised his hands and waved them defensively as he slurred out his appeal to have mercy, claiming his innocence and promise never to do anything bad ever again. But his words fell on deaf ears as Vegeta continued advancing on him and Bulma stayed silent instead of urging the saiyan to leave him alone.

"You piece of shit," Vegeta snarled as he backed the man up against a wall, "wanted to hurt _my_ woman. No, you were going to rape her, weren't you?" His voice was so low and menacing it commanded full attention, even though his audience didn't want to hear his words. "I will not forgive you for that."

Tail now lashing angrily behind him, Vegeta closed the gap between himself and the would-be rapist and grabbed his throat, pulling him down to eye level. Bulma watched intently, not wanting Vegeta to _kill_ the man, but at least severely punish him for what he planned on doing. If things got too rough, she would speak up. Until then, she would let justice be served.

"No one touches the mate of the Prince of all Saiyans," Vegeta hissed as he drove his knee into the man's gut.

"I'm sorry," the man wheezed as he coughed up some bloody phlegm. "I wouldn't have done anything, really!"

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, as Vegeta punched him hard in the jaw. There was a cracking sound as the bone broke, rendering the man incapable of telling more lies. "Don't give me that bullshit. I know damn well what you would have done if I hadn't been here to stop you."

Bulma winced at the sound of a breaking bone and decided maybe she should speak up before Vegeta got carried away. And yet, she was filled with hatred for the man who was trying to assault her and felt little pity for him in his terrible situation. He brought it on himself when he chose to attack her and he was getting what he deserved. Besides, she was filled with more love for Vegeta because of his defending her, after having sought her out, which surely had interrupted his training, a great inconvenience to him. That meant he had been keeping tabs on her even though he wasn't with her. She giggled with a wave of adoration for him even as he threw the man to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him flying into the air a few feet. She grinned as he hit the ground hard and silently cheered her lover on.

It wasn't until she watched him choking the man again that she realized she was acting very unlike herself. She was devoid of compassion, waiting with anticipation for the man's suffering, feeling gratified by the pain he was receiving on her behalf. When had she become so vengeful? It was unlike her to so seriously want someone to pay for a wrong they had caused her. Maybe Vegeta had been rubbing off on her more than she thought. Then again, no one had ever tried to rape her before, so she was experiencing an animosity toward someone for an offense she had never been dealt before. Either way, she didn't like what she saw in herself and figured now would be a good time to stop Vegeta from going any further in beating the man.

"Hey, Vegeta," she called out, "I think he's had enough. You'll kill him if you don't stop."

He turned to her and she nearly stumbled backwards when she was struck by the murderous intent roaring like a fire in his teal eyes. She knew he was more prone to anger when he was a super saiyan; something about the power took away some of his inhibitions, but it was unnerving to see him so bloodthirsty.

"Is there a problem with that?" he asked calmly.

Slowly, she nodded and forced one foot in front of the other until she was standing right next to him. "Don't bother, 'Geta. He's scum. Hardly worth the effort of killing, right?" She hoped an appeal to his ego would get him to give up his quest to end the man's life slowly and painfully.

He snorted and dropped the man's limp body on the ground. "You're too soft-hearted," he drawled as he scooped her up in his arms and levitated off the ground, still glaring at the man who was, to his chagrin, still alive.

"You shouldn't complain," she teased, "If I wasn't, I never would've fallen for you."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "As if you couldn't fall for my charm."

"I'm sorry, were you making a joke?" She laughed at his indignant expression and nuzzled into his neck. "I should probably call the police or something so that creep doesn't get more chances to attack other women."

"Hn." Vegeta wrapped his tail around her waist again as he waited for her to pull her cell phone out of her pocket and call the lazy men supposedly responsible for upholding the law who never seemed to be around when they were actually needed. He flew up to the second floor of the building they were in front of and reclined on a windowsill with Bulma held on his lap.

When she finished her call she put her phone back in her pocket and stroked Vegeta's hair affectionately. "Thanks, by the way. I thought for sure I wasn't going to get away."

He started purring when she scratched behind his ear and leaned his head into her hand. "Foolish woman, I wouldn't let a lowlife like him hurt you."

"I know, but how was I supposed to know you would come? It's not like you could have heard me if I screamed for help."

He rubbed her back and smirked at her. "I can sense your ki. I'll always know when you get yourself into trouble." He just hoped that she wouldn't find more trouble like this; already he had saved her from being robbed, kidnapped, and raped. What next? He hated to imagine.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too long before a police car showed up and parked next to the large man's unconscious form. Vegeta, holding Bulma tightly, hopped off the window ledge and landed quietly behind the policeman who was looking around for the woman who had called about the attempted attack. Bulma cleared her throat as she untangled herself from Vegeta's arms and tail, though she stayed close enough to lean against him.

"Hello, officer," she said when he whirled around to see who had sneaked up behind him.

The policeman's eyes widened slightly when he realized who was addressing him. "Miss Brief! Are you the one who called in…?"

She nodded and shot a dark glance at the unconscious thug. "Yeah. That guy there, he tried to attack me."

"Alright, I'll need you to file a report," he told her, then asked with some awe, "Who took him out?"

Bulma smirked and gestured with her head to Vegeta. "This guy."

The policeman looked Vegeta up and down and shrugged, taking her word for it. He may be a small man, but he looked tough as nails and he knew that personally he wouldn't want to mess with him. Whatever happened, he was glad that someone saved Bulma Brief from being raped by a common criminal like the man lying on the ground. He looked like he needed to go to a hospital more than a jail, so he called in for an ambulance while Bulma filled out the report.

It was a long time before all the legal rituals were out of the way and Bulma was allowed to go back home. The policeman offered her a ride, but she declined in favor of going back to the compound with Vegeta. Once everyone was gone, Vegeta slung her over his shoulder and took off into the air, headed straight to Capsule Corp. It was after breakfast time and his stomach was growling impatiently even though he hadn't had much of a workout that morning.

Back at the compound, Bulma explained her tardiness to her parents, pouring praise on Vegeta the whole time. She didn't want her parents to worry about her going out alone, so she was a little frustrated with their comments to be more careful. After all, she was a grown woman and could usually take care of herself.

"I just can't believe anybody would want to do that to my baby," Mrs. Brief murmured sadly, wiping a tear from her eye with her napkin.

"Don't worry about it, Mom," Bulma tried reassuring her, "The creep's going to get locked up and it won't happen again. Instead of worrying about me you should be thanking Vegeta for saving me. Something _really_ bad might have happened if it weren't for him."

Vegeta cast her a glare for bringing attention back to him as he shoved another forkful of eggs in his mouth. He didn't want the crazy woman fawning over his heroism. He was simply protecting what was his. Had she been any other woman he probably wouldn't have cared.

Mrs. Brief sniffled and nodded her head vigorously. "Of course, you're right, Bulma dear. Oh, Mr. Vegeta I'm so glad you were there to help her. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to my baby."

Vegeta grunted and spent the rest of the meal shrugging Mrs. Brief's hands off as she tried to hug him, pat his back, or make any other physical contact that he didn't want. She was definitely fawning over him and it was all his woman's fault. Shouldn't the crazy woman be fawning over _her_ after her 'traumatic' experience? He finished his meal as fast as he could to get away from the Briefs and their admiration for his selfless act of chivalry.

Bulma laughed when he made a slightly less than dignified retreat as soon as he was finished with his breakfast. While she was disappointed that he left hastily instead of sticking around to engage in a little banter, she still thought it was funny that he was still so uncomfortable being recognized for his goodness. He still didn't believe he _had_ any good, so when someone else mentioned it he was immediately put on the defensive. She couldn't understand why he thought being good meant being weak. If anything, in her opinion, it made him stronger. But there was no way to convince him of that. Her laughter died down and she sighed as she thought about whether he would ever admit or willingly show he cared about her as much as she knew he did. Yes, he was possessive, and she had no doubt that he would claim if asked that he was only keeping someone's dirty hands off his property, but she knew it was more than that. He really, truly did care for her in a way she didn't think he understood himself.

Little did Bulma know that her incident would change Vegeta's mind about ever letting her go on a solitary outing on foot again. From that day forward, he never missed going with her on her morning jog. For a while, he was loathe to allow her to leave the compound without escorting her period, but she was finally able to reassure him that she was fine going by herself into the city if she drove and stayed in well-populated areas.

Truth be told, Bulma was scared for a while at the idea of leaving without Vegeta by her side. While her fear had subsided once he showed up that morning, the fear that a similar event could happen again gnawed away at the back of her mind. It took several days for her to get over the scare and function normally outside of the compound. Fortunately, nothing too serious had happened and she was able to bounce back from it quickly. It helped, too, that Vegeta was with her a good deal of time for those days, as he seemed to sense her insecurity and wanted to be around to protect her from her own fears more than any actual threats. It was calming to know that one of the strongest warriors in the universe was her personal bodyguard. Whenever she thought about it she chuckled, thinking how humorous it was that he would 'lower' himself to such a trivial position for her benefit.

Vegeta started training with renewed fervor after having been reminded of what he was really fighting for. Sure, he would protect the planet he was living on, but more importantly, he was fighting to protect his blue-haired woman, his future mate, the person who had given his life new meaning. Seeing her in a situation where she would have been hurt, both physically and mentally, tore him apart inside. He was filled with rage and guilt whenever he thought about what would have happened had he not shown up when he did. She wanted him to go with her that morning and he had refused for his selfish drive to train harder than jogging would have been for him. He was angry with himself for being so foolish and mentally kicked himself for choosing not to accompany her that day. Thus he pushed himself ever harder in his training because his focus was reset on saving the woman from the android threat rather than gaining personal glory and recognition. Yes, he would defeat the tin cans. For her.

And so Vegeta was rarely seen in his base form after that morning. Even when he felt as if his body would implode from trying to remain in his ascended state too long he kept going, forcing himself to strengthen his endurance and power. By the time February rolled around he was even stronger than he had been before he starved himself almost to death. He took enough rest to recuperate and start again, leading to greater gains in his power in a shorter period of time. And somehow, despite his avid training, he found more time to spend with Bulma.

This, of course, thrilled Bulma. When she saw how hard he was working himself, she was afraid that she would essentially never see him. Surprisingly, though, he never trained after dinner, instead staying with her. He occasionally took breaks during the day and went to her lab to visit her while he ate a snack the size of a small feast. Though he didn't talk much during those visits, the fact that he was just there, with her, was endearing. He didn't have to go to her lab. He could have sat by himself in the kitchen and had easy access to more food, or he could have taken his food back to the gravity chamber. But he went to be with her, even if only for a few short minutes before leaving to return to his training.

It was through small actions that she picked up on how much he cared for her. He would never speak the words she sort of wished she could hear from him, but he could show her through what he did. He was a man of actions rather than words, which was fine by her. Actions were undoubtedly more sincere than any words could be anyway. The more time he spent around her, the more she would look back on their strange relationship and realize he had always been like that. Of course there were the times he left her for extended outings, but that was because he was afraid of what was happening between them or because he was having an inner struggle that he needed to sort out on his own. It wasn't so much a rejection of her as a need to be alone that she had to admit she wouldn't have given him if he stuck around. She came to realize that, while he wasn't shy as her mother _still_ claimed, he was very introverted. She used to think he was just reserved for the sake of keeping others from being able to hurt him, but after getting to know him more intimately it became more evident that he really was an introvert and he could only stand so much time spent in the presence of others, even her, before he was burned out. He didn't particularly like people, but it wasn't simply because he was an arrogant jerk with a serious superiority complex.

Frequently while training Vegeta would get a craving for Bulma's presence and wanted nothing more than to quit and go see her. During those times he would spur himself on by thinking of harm coming to her because he hadn't been prepared well enough to defeat the androids and prevent them from hurting her. Then, fueled by a fury of his own making, he would throw himself more ardently into his training until he felt as if his body would break under the stress. Even then he would press on, forcing himself so far beyond his limit he surprised even himself when his body didn't give out on him.

After such training sessions he could feel a substantial growth in his power level. Perhaps there was a connection between emotion and power. That seemed bizarre to him, but there was no doubting that, when it came to transforming into a super saiyan for the first time, there was a great deal of emotion triggering the rush of power that had been locked away somewhere deep inside. Therefore, it was oddly reasonable that the more he used emotion – especially anger – in his training, the more his power would increase. Perhaps that was why it was so many generations since the last super saiyan before himself and Kakarrot. Saiyans started rejecting their emotions instead of allowing them to fuel their power.

There were times that he was astounded with himself for taking interest in such a weak creature who needed his protection. Without him, she would have found herself in a great deal of trouble more than once because she was unable to defend herself from other weak creatures. It made sense that a female could be overpowered by a male as in the case of when she was being chased by that apelike man, but what if she was faced off against another weakling like herself who could gain the advantage merely by having a weapon? Her strength was negligible, pathetic. And yet, he still found himself interested in her. No, infatuated with her. Attached. Dependent. How had he allowed that to happen? How could he, the Prince of all Saiyans, lower himself to mating with an exotically colored female of a species who relied on toys for safety?

Even as he thought those things, he knew it didn't matter to him now as it once may have. Her strength was minimal, but she didn't need to be strong physically if she had him as her mate. She was strong in other ways, instead. She was brilliant, her intelligence was unrivaled, except by his own. She was strong mentally in that she was so resilient. Something bad happened to her and she was able to recover from it shortly whereas another woman may have been broken by it. Even if she couldn't win a fight, she had a fighting spirit, which was probably the first thing that had attracted him to her. When she was still afraid of him, she stood up to him. She refused to back down when someone tried to best her in a disagreement and had no qualms about asserting her authority to underlings. Yes, she was a strong woman without being a warrior. That was good enough for him. In fact, he almost liked being needed to protect her.

It occurred to him that they might not be such a bad match after all. In some ways they weren't as different as he had originally thought. They were strong, competitive, protective, and proud. Despite their arguments, they were able to reconcile somehow. They were both intelligent and curious and wanted to learn about each other. Both of them were a sort of royalty; while he had been the heir to the throne of the great warrior race, she was the heir to the biggest company on her planet that practically ran the economy and thus all the world's governments. In other ways, they were very dissimilar. She was good, he was bad. She was idealistic, he was cynical. But all their differences seemed to complement each other well, creating a balance both needed.

Earlier in his life he would have been deeply ashamed for his attraction to the blue-haired woman. But now, after choosing to be more like saiyans were meant to be and accepting his feelings and need for companionship, he was proud of his choice in a mate. He could not imagine a better match since the saiyans were gone. In many ways, she reminded him of what he thought a female saiyan would be like, minus the lack of physical strength. And so, he gave in to his attraction to her and pursued her and came to peace with his decision to mate with her.

_A/N: Seems like this story has been nothing but fluff lately. That may be so, but things are going to get pretty action-packed again in a few chapters. It is my pleasure to inform you that I have a poll on my profile for you to vote on whether or not I should write a sequel to this story. It isn't guaranteed even if I get a million people saying yes, but it will factor in to my decision quite a bit. Even if it does happen, it won't be for quite a while because I have several other stories in the works right now and I'd like to either finish them or get them mostly done before I start on a huge project like that._

_To answer a couple reviews... Vegeta, at this point in the story, is about as strong as he was when he was when he fought Imperfect Cell... ascended saiyan? Whatever. I also want to throw it out there that I don't write lemons. Sorry. And the new story I'm writing isn't going to be posted for a pretty long time. I want to have it all written before I start posting it so you won't have to wait forever and a half for updates. :)_

_Song: "Addictive" by Faithless_


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

'_Cause I'm  
TNT  
I'm dynamite  
TNT  
And I'll win the fight  
TNT  
I'm a power-load  
TNT  
Watch me explode_

There were three months left before the androids would come. Three months left to train and prepare for the battle that, in the future timeline, had killed all the earth's greatest warriors except for Gohan. Three months didn't seem like a very long time after spending so many more training harder than ever before. Three years of anticipating the arrival of the androids made three months seem trivial. Apprehension was growing in the hearts of all who knew what was to come, Vegeta included.

It was nighttime at Capsule Corp and he had just come back after a day of sparring with Goku, whose strength he hadn't been too impressed with. He was much stronger, both as a super saiyan and in his base state. He still had access to the depths of energy the other saiyan no doubt had but didn't know where. So, he had returned to the compound smug, confident in his ability to smite the androids single-handedly. He figured that maybe, if the third-class fool hadn't wasted so much time training his brat and the Namekian, he would have made larger gains in his own strength. But that was irrelevant now. Vegeta was as he was meant to be: Stronger. Greater.

But despite his confidence, he still knew that there was risk in fighting the androids. As he had mulled over many times before, he continued wondering if he had been a super saiyan when he battled the androids in the lavender-haired boy's timeline. If he had been a super saiyan, how did his strength compare to what it was now? Did he really have a chance or was he only kidding himself? The uncertainty was unshakable. There was simply no way of knowing how strong the androids actually were.

Wiping some dried blood from his lip, Vegeta went upstairs and into Bulma's bedroom where he felt her ki. He hadn't seen her since breakfast that morning and, though he wouldn't admit it aloud to anyone, he missed seeing her during the day. She was already in bed and appeared to be asleep, much to his chagrin. He turned to leave, but then thought better of it. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes as he walked across her room to the bed and laid down next to her, draping his arm over her waist and pulling her back against his chest. Nuzzled into her neck, he could inhale her intoxicating scent with every breath.

He didn't mean to stay with her all night. He just wanted to be with her for a while, even if she wasn't awake during his visit. All he needed was to see her, touch her, smell her. But soon he found himself soothed by the sound of her slow, steady breathing and the warmth of her small body held against his and his eyes drifted shut and wouldn't open again. More tired than he had originally thought, he fell asleep next to the woman he claimed as his own.

Bulma woke up during the night, and the first thing she noticed was the heavy weight on her body, then the heat against her back, and then the smell of blood mixed with the strong scent of the saiyan prince. She felt his breath against her neck and turned her head until she saw the flame of blonde hair behind her.

She grinned and whispered, "Vegeta? You awake?" When she got no response, she tried to wiggle free of his arm, which was weighing heavily on her, but then his tail coiled around her thigh and his arm tightened around her waist, holding her in place. She sighed and tried to move enough that his arm was at least positioned where it didn't restrain her breathing so much.

Through it all he slept soundly. She knew he could be a light sleeper, having accidentally woken him up more than once and facing his wrath, but there were other times he was out like a light and couldn't be roused for anything. Well, she figured that wasn't entirely true as a threat would surely wake him up. Even in the deepest slumber he would be able to sense danger coming from a mile away and be prepared to defend himself in a heartbeat. But a little helpless woman trying to move his arm, that wasn't enough to wake him up. No way.

Once she finally moved his arm down to rest on her hip she yawned and snuggled tighter against him and threw her blankets over him. Having noted the scent of blood, she knew she would have to change her sheets the next day, but she didn't mind. Him coming to her room and sleeping with her was probably the most adorable thing he had ever done and she wasn't going to have any complaints against him, hopefully encouraging him to do it again. Even if they didn't have much in the way of physical intimacy going, it was nice to have him with her.

"Goodnight, Prince," she murmured as she went back to sleep, feeling comfortable and safe with the saiyan holding her. She couldn't wait until the androids were gone and he would hold her every night. And he would do so much more than hold her, too.

Though still exhausted, Vegeta woke up at his usual time and inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of his blue-haired woman reminding him of where he was. His eyes cracked open and he could see her cerulean hair and ivory skin. He had to confess, it was a beautiful sight to wake up to. He moved his arm from around her until his hand was resting on her hip and he slid it up her side, feeling the curves of her body. She was his. All his.

He took another deep breath, filling his mind with her scent until he felt intoxicated with it. Then, reluctantly, he unwrapped his tail from her leg and carefully got out of bed so as not to wake her up. He left the room soundlessly, grabbing his shirt and shoes on the way out. He might have been mad at himself for staying with her all night if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't in any way lost control of himself. Rather, they had innocently slept together. It was pleasant, going to sleep with her and waking up with her. Perfect. He wanted to do it again. Every day for the rest of his life.

An hour passed as Vegeta trained in the gravity room, feeling more invigorated than he had in a few days despite not taking any additional time off. He attributed it to a particularly restful sleep, short though it had been. He noticed another significant jump in his power level and turned the gravity up another 50Gs. A strange sort of feeling filled his body, a feeling that there might be another vast source of power he had yet to find buried within. A power that would allow him to ascend to new heights, bringing him unimaginable strength that would be truly unrivaled. Despite the knowledge that it existed, he couldn't figure out how to tap into it. He had felt it, as if seeing the tip of an iceberg, for a while now, and had finally come to the conclusion that the power needed to be released in much the same way he reached his original ascension. With pure, raw anger and hatred that broke free from his leash of civility. It was an emotion so pure it could not be faked in order to gain new power; no, he had to experience it for real, and for once he was reluctant to welcome the necessary rage. The anger that once accompanied him constantly was greatly diminished, which didn't leave him feeling as empty as he had feared.

Simply powering up would not be sufficient to break down the barrier preventing him from accessing his latent power. He had learned that lesson when he was still trying to make the first ascension; how often had he powered up as high as he could go and beyond, but with no results other than fatigue or injury. Power, in such a huge magnitude, needed a reason to come out, otherwise it stayed hidden deep inside, waiting for the right moment to flood through him. In a way, he was appreciative of the fact that he couldn't access it. It not only gave him a new goal to work toward, but it gave him assurance that, if pushed far enough, he would have a trick up his sleeve that his opponent wouldn't see coming and might inadvertently bring out. And then it would be a sad day, indeed, for his enemy.

A smirk still graced his lips when he turned the gravity simulator off and opened the door after hearing his blue-haired woman knocking, summoning him to go with her on her morning jog. He was feeling good. No, he was feeling great. There was a noticeable liveliness in his step and an exaggerated confidence in his swagger uncommon even for him. Ego inflated, he strode through the halls of Capsule Corp with his woman at his side. Life on the mudball wasn't so bad, he decided. Not for now, at least.

"What's got you feeling so smug?" she asked when he opened the front door and faced the world with an authoritative demeanor. Bulma loved seeing him in better moods, something she definitely didn't see enough of. Lately he had been reclusive even when with her, which she attributed to the nearness of the threat that had killed him in an alternate timeline.

He quirked an eyebrow at her mischievously and flicked his tongue over his long canine. "Just the fact that I am the most powerful warrior in the universe. More powerful than even I know." With a playful flick of the tail he turned away from her and started jogging, hardly waiting for her to react and catch up with him.

Once at his side again, Bulma turned to him and asked, "What do you mean, even more than you know? You don't know your own power?"

His lips curled into a toothy smirk and he shook his head. "I have a sort of hidden power. I can feel it, but I can't bring it out – yet. When it shows, it will be unreal." He erupted in a bark of laughter and grabbed Bulma around the waist, blasting into the sky. "You want to see what I mean?"

Bulma squeaked in surprise at her sudden airborne state but nodded when he asked to show her his power. Honestly, she was really curious about how powerful he had become, only knowing from his self-reports that he had been making great gains in his strength. His power manifest would be a sight worth seeing, for sure. She held onto him tightly as he flew at supersonic speeds high in the atmosphere before landing in a remote desert, many miles away from any civilization.

"You stay here," he told her as he again took off into the air and landed several hundred yards away, barely visible to her. Then, with a shout, he powered up, a flame of golden ki flaring around him and growing until it engulfed everything within a ten yard radius of his body. His energy created a wind that carried a cloud of dust and debris that Bulma had to shield herself from and the ground beneath him cracked and disintegrated until he sank into a deep crater of his own creation. With a roar, he threw his arms above his head and released all his power in a massive wave of blinding light, levitating and crumbling rocks and boulders, stripping the top soil off the ground, and extending the depth and width of his crater.

Seemingly by a miracle, Bulma was unharmed by his outburst of energy. What had really happened was, with his expert control of his energy output, he was able to direct it all away from her while still destroying any debris that could potentially hurt her. His aura flared up to new heights and seemed to drift off into the atmosphere it was coming off it such excess. Now fully powered up, he relaxed, allowing his energy to reenter his body, making his aura disappear. With a sigh of satisfaction, he flexed his ki-infused muscles and phased over to Bulma.

Her breath caught in her throat when the dust finally cleared and she was able to see the damage his power had caused the landscape. It was completely flat as far as the eye could see where there had previously been hills, boulders, and low areas. In the middle of it all was an enormous crater, much larger than she had ever seen before. Remembering the light, she was glad that she had her eyes closed and covered lest she lost her vision. It was, in a word, incredible.

"Wow," was the only word she could get to come out. Eyes wide, she scanned the horizon, unable to wrap her mind around the sheer force needed to cause such devastation. It made her more grateful than ever that he was on the good side now; having an enemy capable of such destruction would not be fun. With that thought, she reminded herself that the androids they were expecting in a few months were possibly capable of all that and more. She shuddered at that thought and shook her head violently to rid her mind of her pessimism.

"You're amazed at that," Vegeta drawled from behind, startling her, "but imagine what it would have looked like with my untapped power. It would have been _exponentially_ greater."

Feeling his warm breath on her neck, her knees buckled and he had to catch her before she fell. She was completely overwhelmed by the awesome display; she felt both scared and secure, proud and intimidated, shocked and thrilled. The rush of feelings was too much. Scared that Vegeta's power wouldn't be enough, secure that he could defeat any enemy, proud of his accomplishment, intimidated by his unreal strength, shocked by the magnitude of it, and thrilled that he was capable of it, knowing he would use it not for his own selfish purposes, but for protecting the planet he once wanted to destroy.

"Exponentially?" she squeaked out as he supported her weight. Even having seen his power, she could hardly believe it. But make it exponentially higher? Unbelievable!

He chuckled at her reaction and nuzzled into her neck, his skin burning against hers. It was almost painful to her how hot his skin felt, yet at the same time it was soothing. His arms encircled her waist as he levitated off the ground, slowly ascending so she could see the aftermath of his release of power from a better perspective. It was unfathomable that one person could contain so much energy. Far more than any bombs humans had ever invented.

"Maybe it's better that it's dormant," she murmured when she saw his destruction extending as far as her eyes could see.

Vegeta shrugged and coiled his tail around her waist as he sped off back toward West City. Moving even faster than before, he reached the city in a matter of minutes and touched down on a deserted street several blocks from Capsule Corp. Taking into account her average speed, he decided that if they jogged back to the compound, they would arrive just in time for breakfast, which he was eagerly anticipating. His stomach was growling after his morning's exertion and he couldn't wait for Mrs. Brief's fabulous pancakes.

"Let's go, Woman," he said as he started jogging, again not waiting for her to start with him. He went slow enough for her to easily catch up and then sped up to her normal pace.

Bulma grinned as she thought about their morning excursion. How many people had he shown the full extent of his power? Surely he would keep it under wraps, preferring to surprise his allies when the time came to fight. For the sake of preserving the planet he probably refrained from releasing his full power too often. But for her, he had gone far out of his way, disrupted his daily routine, just to show her his power. She hadn't been able to feel it the same way the other warriors could sense it, but she had seen it. And it was truly astonishing. Who could compare?

'He's practically a god,' she thought as she rounded a corner on her way back home. 'I bet he's _stronger_ than the gods! He's stronger than Goku, he has to be. It's incredible.' She cast him a sidelong glance and nearly broke out into laughter. 'I'm in love with a ticking time bomb. But for some reason that doesn't worry me in the least.' The absurdity of it was too humorous. How had someone like her fallen for a man like him? She was, to be sure, temperamental, but nothing in comparison to him. In general, she was gentle, compassionate, weak. He was the embodiment of power, strength, ruthlessness, callousness.

Vegeta noticed her lips twitching with suppressed amusement but didn't ask what she was thinking about. Mostly likely it was ridiculous and trivial, two things he couldn't care less about. He rolled his eyes to the heavens and shook his head. The woman was insane. Enough said. He had committed himself to an insane, helpless, earthling female. How absurd! But he couldn't be mad about his choice. If he had to do it all over again, he'd make the same decision.

Back at the compound, standing outside the front door, Bulma put her hand on Vegeta's arm and locked eyes with him. "You know the androids won't stand a chance against you." There was no question, no doubt in her tone. Just a bold, declarative statement. It was truth. With his power, there was no chance of defeat. For the past three years she had lived not knowing what the future would hold. But now, after seeing his demonstration, she was sure of victory.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers and held onto her arms. "You think. Do not underestimate the enemy, Woman. It is a foolish mistake." Having chastised her for her confidence, he kissed her once, short and sweet, and went inside, headed straight for the kitchen where he would get his pre-breakfast snack.

She watched him disappear into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, not quite ready to go face her ever-cheerful mother. It wasn't that she wasn't in a good mood herself, it was just that she was still feeling overwhelmed by what she had witnessed and slightly confused by what Vegeta told her. Don't underestimate the enemy? Did he even realize how amazingly powerful he was? Knowing him, he would _never_ be convinced he was strong enough for anything. Even if he could defeat Goku a hundred times over he wouldn't be strong enough. She figured it was a 'better-safe-than-sorry' mentality with him, at least in regard to the androids. For that, she was actually thankful. Even though she was indeed confident that he could defeat them without breaking a sweat, she appreciated that he was working so hard to ensure the safety of the planet. Of course, he had the motive to keep his life as well, but she hardly considered him a selfish person anymore, instead choosing to focus on his goodness.

With a shrug, she pushed off from the doorframe and went inside to face her bubbly mother, distracted father, and smug houseguest. She sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast once the food was set out but hardly partook in any of the conversation. Instead, she sat quietly, watching Vegeta shovel his gigantic portion of food into his mouth with a sense of awe. Great power comes with great appetites, she concluded. Her mind kept replaying his display of power, still unable to comprehend it in its entirety. One person, being able to generate that much energy, it was simply impossible. And yet, he had done it. And if what he said was true, he was capable of many times more than that if pushed far enough. She shook her head at the mere idea of a greater power than he had shown as her head started hurting from the effort of trying to make sense of it all. The saiyan was unimaginably strong. There was no one greater. And she was his.

That last thought sent a tingling excitement running through her body. She hadn't been chosen by just anyone. No, she was chosen by one of the greatest beings to ever grace the universe with his presence. With only a small fraction of the power he had now, he had done unspeakable evil, but he would never commit such atrocities again. With his great power, he would do great things, become a great and noble man. Finally, he would be the prince he was born to be, honorable, dignified, unrivaled, and proud. He would use his power to better the universe instead of tearing it apart; she liked to think the changes in him were because of her, but she knew that while she had had an effect on him, the changes were entirely his choice. He was shaping himself into a better man, into the kind of man he always should have been. And with that he had chosen her as his mate. He could have had anyone if he really wanted, but he had settled on her. In a way she was afraid of letting him down, but she knew he wouldn't take someone he hadn't already decided was worthy of his attention. For that, she was honored.

When he pushed his last plate aside, Bulma asked him, "When are you going to take a break from all your training?" It hadn't occurred to her until just then that it had been a long time since he took a day off. In fact, she didn't think he had taken one since he had come back into her life after a month's leave. Who knew if he took a break during that month?

Vegeta cocked his head and appeared to be deep in thought for a moment before he answered. "When I get tired," he replied with a shrug. In truth, he wanted to take a break, just so he could spend time with her without having training on his mind. However, he knew he had lots of energy to spare and didn't want to waste it when he could be increasing his strength for the not-so-distant battle with the androids. And so, he decided that he wouldn't take a break until he needed one, which might not be for a long while. He had been a super saiyan for weeks and still felt fine, as if the heightened ki was no longer straining his body.

He forced himself to ignore the disappointed expression that crossed her features, instead focusing on the table in front of him. Once the androids were gone, he would have all the time in the world to spend with her, but until then, he needed to make himself ready so there would actually be a future to live out. There was still massive improvements he could make in his fighting techniques and his discipline in the next three months. Now was not the time to allow himself to be distracted or feel safe in his current level of ability. No, he would keep working as hard – harder, even – as he had been for the past three years. Slacking off didn't cross his mind.

"I see," Bulma mumbled after swallowing back her feeling of rejection. She knew he wasn't trying to hurt her or push her away, but she couldn't help feeling like he was putting her low on his priorities. She knew she was higher than anyone had ever been. But still, training, eating, and sleeping were above her. She knew that going into the relationship. Why did she still let it bother her? She only hoped it would change once the androids were gone.

Vegeta stood up and paused next to her on his way out of the kitchen. He leaned down and nipped her nose. "Don't misunderstand my reasoning, Woman. There will be time for breaks in three months." An instant later, he was gone.

Bulma's heart leaped in her chest when she realized he had just confirmed her thoughts. Things _would_ change, so until then she would just have to deal with his intense training regimen. It would never get easy, being able to see him so infrequently, but at least there remained the hope that in just a few short months she would have him all to herself. There was no doubt that he would continue training, but it wouldn't take up nearly so much of his time.

She hadn't even noticed a blush rising in her cheeks until she looked back at her parents, who quickly ducked behind their respective reading materials. Always watching, weren't they? She chuckled and started taking dirty dishes to the sink. It wasn't as if her relationship with the saiyan prince was a secret, so why did her parents still act as if they shouldn't see any sort of affection between them? Their behavior was so juvenile it was funny.

Dr. Brief folded his newspaper and slapped it down on the table as he stood and stretched his arms over his head. "Bulma, dear, I think you should come in to the office today. We're expecting the deal with Dynamic Robotics Inc. to go through, so you'll need to do some paperwork."

Bulma stuck her finger in her mouth in a mock gag and laughed when her father rolled his eyes at her gesture. "That's fine, I'll go after I get cleaned up," she sighed. Office work was not among her favorite pastimes, but it was a necessity. Dr. Brief nodded and left the kitchen to finish getting ready for work before heading over to headquarters.

After a quick shower, Bulma put on a black business suit and went downstairs. Before she opened the front door to leave, she thought maybe it would be a good idea to tell Vegeta where she was going. He had been slightly overprotective of late, and she didn't want to worry him when he couldn't find her when he came out of the gravity room for lunch. When she reached the large metal door to the gravity room, she slammed her hand against it. A minute later it opened, revealing a panting, sweaty, blonde-haired saiyan. Sexy. She licked her lips.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm going to headquarters today," she said, her voice slightly more sultry than she intended to make it. "So I'll see you at dinner."

Vegeta quirked his eyebrow and nodded curtly. "I'll go with you."

"What? Why? I'm driving, I'll be fine." Secretly, she was flattered that he would take her to work when he had more important things to do. Namely, training. Really, he hated having his training interrupted, why would he willingly leave the compound on a short trip to headquarters when she didn't need an escort? Not that she was complaining.

"Do not argue with me, Woman."

Bulma held her hands up in resignation and turned away to head back to the front door of the compound. She heard him close the gravity room door and felt the heat from his body behind her, but he made no audible sound as he walked.

Outside, Bulma pulled a capsule out of her pocket, still intent on driving to work, but Vegeta snatched it from her and scooped her up into his arms and took off into the air. Held against his chest, she could smell his strong, masculine scent that, rather than disgusting her, made her more attracted to him. She hardly realized she was nuzzling into him, sniffing his sweaty skin. But Vegeta noticed and smirked. Though she was human, he still had a strong effect on her.

Several minutes later Vegeta landed in front of the large headquarters building and set Bulma down on her feet, steadying her as she gained her balance after being airborne. When she walked toward the building, he stayed next to her, wrapping his golden tail around her thigh. It was, essentially, a public display of affection, which made Bulma blush, but there was no way she was going to tell him to stop. Sometimes she wondered if he really did control her; she felt as if he could do anything and she would let him because she was so desperate to be his.

Inside, the receptionist welcomed Bulma cheerfully, but her jaw dropped when she saw that the company's vice president was not alone. Standing next to her was the flame-haired man she had heard many wild rumors about. It wasn't the first time she had seen him, but it was the first time since she had heard any stories about him. Looking more closely at him this time, she was able to believe every one of them. There was just something odd about him…

Bulma pushed the button at the elevator and waited somewhat impatiently for the doors to open. She could feel the eyes of the receptionist and several other employees on her and the saiyan prince and didn't like it much. She knew most of them had heard about him by now, which made her glad that she made them all sign the non-disclosure agreement about him. In a way, she wanted him to leave so she could avoid the awkward glances, but she didn't have the heart to tell him he wasn't wanted around. So she grit her teeth and endured it.

Vegeta was more impatient, though he was oblivious to – or at least unconcerned by – the stares he was receiving. He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot until the floor shook a little. "What is taking this damned contraption so long?" he demanded after his patience wore out. Bulma cringed at the volume of his little outburst and looked around apologetically.

"It's just slow, that's all," she hissed in a hushed voice. "So be patient."

He huffed with irritation and scowled at the shiny doors that refused to open. "Forget this," he growled, turning on his heel and dragging Bulma along behind him. He marched toward the stairs and, arm secured around her waist, flew up the many flights of stairs. Once he reached the floor her office was on, he stopped and waited for her to unlock the door, figuring she wouldn't be terribly happy with him if he kicked it down.

Bulma shook her head and flipped through her keys until she found the right one. "Beats taking the elevator, I guess," she muttered. If only he hadn't made such a scene in the lobby, she would have been happier about her quick ascent to her office.

She finally got her door unlocked and went inside, shrugging her suit jacket off and throwing it on the nearest chair on her way to her oversized desk. Vegeta stepped inside after her and looked around. He had only been here twice before, only once conscious. He watched the woman sit down at her desk and start shuffling papers around, wondering if she was actually doing anything productive or just trying to appear busy. Once bored with that, he turned his attention back to the office and walked around slowly, committing every detail to memory.

"If you don't mind my asking," Bulma said from across the room, eyes still buried in her paperwork, "Why are you staying here? Don't you have training to do?"

He snorted and kicked a chair so it slid across the floor and crashed into the wall. He saw the woman jump out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "Of course I do, Woman. But I'm making sure you're safe here first."

Her mouth shaped into an 'O' but no sound came out. That was a response she certainly hadn't been expecting. Since when had he determined her office wasn't a safe place to be? Or at least that there was a possibility of danger there? Granted, he had been severely overprotective the past couple weeks, and this was the first time she had come to headquarters since then. With a shrug, she turned back to her papers and continued reading through a contract.

Meanwhile, Vegeta continued his inspection of the office suite, looking for any giveaways that someone would be able to gain access to her without notice or permission. The door from the stairs was bolted shut, but he wasn't sure he trusted it. The elevator doors wouldn't open unless a code was entered, which was only known to a few employees. The windows were an unlikely entrance to anyone unless they could fly, and the only people capable of flight were friends of hers. But what if someone _did_ manage to break in? They could hide in several places.

Even if there were hiding places, no one was in them. Somewhat satisfied, he scanned the suite one more time for intruders before stalking over to the desk and leaning against it. He waited for Bulma to acknowledge him, and, once he had her attention, told her, "You need to have a more secure locking mechanism on that door," he nodded his head toward the stairs. "And rearrange the furniture so it won't provide any cover for someone who might wish to harm you."

"Vegeta, no one's going to break in here and try to hurt me."

The saiyan raised an eyebrow and frowned. "You say that now. I'm not taking chances with you, Woman. You're like a magnet for trouble."

Bulma waved her hand at him, motioning for him to leave. "Whatever, I'll take care of it later. You can go back to your training now."

With a snarl he whirled around and strode over to the elevator and punched the down button. If there was one thing he didn't like, it was being dismissed by someone who had no power over him. But this was her domain and he would respect it, even if he resented her lack of concern for what he told her. There was a cheerful ding as the elevator doors opened, revealing two Capsule Corp employees dressed in white lab coats spotted with grease.

The conversation they were in immediately ceased when they saw that, not only were they on the vice president's floor, they were standing right in front of the flame-haired alien they had heard horror stories about. They shrank back into the corners of the elevator as he stepped onto it and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll see you at dinner," Bulma called as the doors shut.

Vegeta grunted and tried his best to ignore the smell of fear surrounding him in the elevator. He glanced over his shoulder at one of the men and sneered. Having someone afraid of him was not unfamiliar, but it had been a while since he saw it. He really didn't want to be on the elevator. He'd take the stairs, but he wanted to keep the door locked and knew bothering the woman while she was busy was unwise if he wanted to retain his hearing. And breaking one of the windows to fly back to the compound would be an even worse move. So, here he was, on an elevator with two quivering men who looked as if they'd seen a ghost. He sighed.

"I'm not going to kill you, you know," he growled. When they jumped he rolled his eyes and flicked his tail behind him with agitation. They were no threat, just annoying. He hated weaklings.

When the elevator doors opened at the ground floor he stalked out, his feet not making a sound on the polished marble floor. He grunted as he passed the receptionist who managed to murmur a goodbye and went outside. Instantly a bright aura flared up around him and he flew away, not in the direction of the compound. If his woman was going to be gone all day anyway, he would go somewhere more interesting to train than the gravity room. Perhaps the third-class would be up for a spar. He grinned evilly as he picked up his speed.

_A/N: Hm, now what kind of power might Vegeta have that needs some kind of trigger? 'Tis a mystery.  
_

_Sorry about the slow update. I spent the whole weekend reading philosophy and stayed up all night Sunday writing a 15-page paper on stuff I didn't understand. And since then I've been trying to play catch-up on sleep whenever I've had a spare moment. That or working on my quantitative research project. Be glad I'm getting anything posted at all this week. But next week is my Spring Break, so I should be back to daily updates for a while._

_Song: "TNT" by AC/DC_


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

_Work your body, baby work your soul  
Keep on workin' workin' to the bone  
Work your body, baby work your soul  
I'm a workaholic when I'm on the floor_

Goku, Piccolo, and Gohan were training at Mount Paozu when Vegeta arrived. They felt him coming, so they were ready for him by the time he landed a few yards from where they were sparring. Goku nodded toward Piccolo, who grabbed Gohan's arm and dragged him away, leaving the two full-blooded saiyans alone, and flew off to a safer distance.

"Up for a spar, Kakarrot?" Vegeta asked, not even waiting for an answer before he crouched into his fighting stance.

Goku smirked and nodded, taking his own stance. Sparring with Vegeta had become a challenge he was determined to meet. It had been quite a while since he had last won one, but he was sure he could do it again. Unfortunately, the saiyan prince was making much faster gains in his strength than he was, which made the task of defeating him extremely difficult. Still, the love of battle and desire for a stronger opponent kept him willing to try again and again. The taste of defeat was no longer as bitter as it had been in the beginning, either because he was becoming accustomed to it or he was genuinely willing to admit he was second best – for now.

"Why don't you power up to super saiyan?" Vegeta suggested as he sidestepped a ki beam directed at him. There was no way he would fight such an unevenly matched battle with the younger saiyan, and he didn't want to power down for a spar. He was working on his record time spent transformed and didn't want to break it now.

"Have it your way." Goku balled his hands into fists and yelled as he powered up, his hair flickering between blonde and black until it stood up on end and glowed gold. His black eyes turned teal and his aura matched his hair. "Now beating me won't be so easy."

Vegeta's guarded façade never betrayed the surprise he felt when his rival's power raised far above what it was last time they sparred. Perhaps victory wouldn't be as easy as he thought, but that was preferable. After all, spars with a weakling were rather boring. He needed a good challenge, especially if it would push him to become even stronger before the androids came.

"Let's see how much you've improved this time, Vegeta," Goku quipped as he ran forward, swinging his fist at the prince's face.

Vegeta caught his fist easily and swung his own punch, which Goku in turn caught. Hands locked together, they started kicking, but each was able to block every attack. Vegeta grinned and slammed his forehead into Goku's, sending him flying backwards a few feet before he was able to catch himself.

Vegeta phased behind the taller warrior and roundhouse kicked him in the side, but before he could move away, Goku grabbed his leg and swung him around a few times before throwing him into the side of a mountain. With a growl of rage Vegeta burst out of the rubble and took to the air, gathering a ki ball in his right hand as he flew toward Goku.

"I'll beat you like I always beat you," he yelled as he threw the ki ball. He watched as the other saiyan dodged it and threw another one. When that one, too, was dodged, he began throwing a steady stream of ki blasts at Goku until they started hitting their target, who was unable to stay ahead of them all.

Yelping, Goku crossed his arms in front of his face to block the attacks until Vegeta came close enough to drive his heel into his unprotected gut. As his arms flew down to his hurting stomach, Vegeta's foot flew up and connected with his chin, snapping his head back painfully. He fell backwards but landed on his hands and pushed himself back in a handspring, putting some much-needed distance between himself and the prince.

Neither had even broken a sweat as they stared each other down. Both phased out of sight and met in a flurry of blows high above the earth, moving so fast they were little more than blurs of color shooting through the sky. They phased in and out of sight, hopping from ground to sky and back again across the mountain range.

"Is that the best you can do?" Vegeta taunted as he feinted to the left and drove his knee into Goku's solar plexus.

Goku coughed and retaliated with a sharp uppercut that knocked the prince off his feet. "Not by a long shot."

Vegeta wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and phased behind Goku, and grabbed him in a chokehold. He constricted the younger saiyan's breathing until he was practically turning blue from asphyxiation. He was caught off guard when Goku twisted around and dug his elbow between his ribs.

Now freed from Vegeta's grasp, Goku quickly powered up a ki attack and blasted it into Vegeta's chest at point blank range before he could recover from the unexpected blow to his ribs. The blast carried Vegeta back several yards before he regained his composure and steadied himself on his feet again. He growled and readied himself for the next round of attacks.

As if on cue both saiyans started raising their power levels higher until they were both engulfed in flames of golden ki. The ground shook as their power raised as if shuddering in fear. They screamed as waves of ki flooded through their bodies. No more holding back, they were going to go all out against each other with no hidden reserves. When their rising power finally leveled off there was no discernable difference between them, much to Vegeta's chagrin. Goku grinned at him and sank into his classic fighting stance, eager to start anew.

Both saiyans disappeared from view and reappeared as Goku swept Vegeta's feet and Vegeta blasted a beam of ki in his rival's face as he fell backwards, then they disappeared again. They phased in and out of sight, stopping only momentarily to exchange blows that created shockwaves that made the earth tremble.

Vegeta raised his arm to block Goku's feinted punch and took a direct hit to the side of his head, which dazed him. He shook his head to clear his vision and spun into a roundhouse kick that caught Goku in the ribs before he could move out of the way. Vegeta leaped into the air and rained a barrage of ki blasts down on the younger saiyan before dodging a kick that came from behind. Goku phased out just in time to dodge a retaliating kick from the prince.

Goku sensed for Vegeta's ki and gathered a ball of ki before throwing it straight at Vegeta. The flame-haired saiyan threw himself back, but the attack grazed his left shoulder, rendering his arm temporarily immobile. He growled and threw a ki ball back at Goku and was satisfied with a surprised yelp and the pungent odor of burning flesh.

Goku gingerly prodded the burn on his leg, and, finding it not to be terribly debilitating, phased out of the way of a second ki attack and flew higher into the atmosphere. He cupped his hands at his side and started gathering energy for his signature attack, but he was knocked back down to the ground by a double axe handle landing on his unguarded back.

"So that's the game you want to play, is it, Kakarrot?" Vegeta taunted as he waited for the other saiyan to dig himself out of the pile of rubble he was buried under when he landed.

The tailless saiyan freed himself with an explosion of ki and jumped to his feet with a grin. "You up for it?" he quipped as he again cupped his hands at his side.

"Always." Vegeta confirmed, moving his hands to his side.

The two saiyans simultaneously started powering up their most powerful ki attacks. A bright blue light emitted from Goku's hands and Vegeta's glowed a radiant violet as their energy grew. Aside from their higher power levels, it was almost exactly like it had been when they were fighting for the first time.

"Kamehameha!"

"Galick gun!"

The two beams of energy shot toward their opponents in a blinding flash of light and collided in the middle, releasing a massive shockwave. Goku grunted with the effort of holding Vegeta's slightly stronger attack off and poured more energy into his attack, refusing to let it overpower him. Vegeta, meanwhile, grit his teeth and focused on pushing his attack on further until the third-class saiyan couldn't hold it back anymore. For what felt like an eternity they were stuck at a standstill, neither making much of any headway against the other, but slowly Vegeta started overtaking Goku.

The taste of victory already in his mouth, Vegeta started laughing maniacally while his counterpart began panicking, knowing that if things didn't change soon, he would once again be defeated by the older saiyan. Goku hated losing, and he'd been doing an awful lot of it lately. Frustrated, he decided to turn it up a notch, using the technique he had almost forgotten from disuse since he hadn't really needed it after ascending to super saiyan.

"Kaio-ken times two!" Goku's gold aura turned a brilliant red as his energy suddenly jumped to new heights. With a triumphant shout he pushed Vegeta's Galick gun back with his kamehameha wave, but was once again held back once it reached midway between them.

Vegeta was enraged when he felt the sudden explosion of power coming at him. There was no way he was going to lose a battle against Kakarrot because of that foolish technique again. No, it reminded him too much of their first encounter. He would not fall again, not to that third-class clown! He roared and threw even more power into his attack, holding the blue energy back. He felt the energy draining from his body and snarled as his frustration grew. He was stronger, unbeatable. There was no way he was going to give up so easily.

Goku felt the increased resistance and forced himself to maintain his increased power, knowing how dangerous it was to lengthen the time he used the kaio-ken technique. It was meant for short bursts, a way to quickly execute a job that needed to be done in a fraction of a second. This was not its intended use and he could feel it tearing his body apart inside. Throbbing with pain, he shouted, "Kaio-ken times three!"

"No you don't, Kakarrot," Vegeta screamed angrily before his voice died into a feral growl. "Not this time." He could see and feel the blue energy wave consuming his smaller violet beam and powered his ki up higher so he could provide his attack more power. Maybe the fool was three times stronger than usual, so what? He knew his rival could only maintain his higher power for a short time before he had to return to normal so as not to risk incinerating himself from the inside out. He poured the last dregs of his energy into his Galick gun, intent only on holding the kamehameha back until it lost two-thirds of its short-lived power.

There was no way to keep the pulsing extra power running through his body, so Goku was forced to drop back down to normal. With his power drained, his kamehameha was easily overtaken by the Galick gun. Screaming, he threw himself to the ground in an attempt to avoid direct impact with the violet ki, but it hit his back, searing his skin. He screamed again, this time in agony, and writhed in the dirt.

With a ruthlessness he hadn't felt for a while, Vegeta watched his rival's suffering with a victorious smirk. That would show the fool to try that against him again. He lowered himself to the ground and staggered to the younger saiyan on unsteady legs.

"Fool," he sneered, "You may as well give up and save what little energy you have left."

He growled when he heard the other saiyan laugh humorlessly and push himself up onto his elbows so he could meet his eyes. "No way, Ve-geta," he moaned out, coughing up some blood through his words. With a grunt of pain he forced himself to his knees and then struggled to his feet. Clenching his fists at his sides, he powered up again, though his ki was significantly lower than it had been at the outset of the spar.

Vegeta smirked and cocked his head, placing his hands on his hips as he observed the other saiyan with mild amusement. "Stubborn, aren't you? I guess there's some saiyan left in you after all. I'll have to beat you into submission then."

Goku shook his head and laughed again. "I don't think so. You're tired too, I can feel it."

The saiyan prince scowled at him and raised his right hand, palm facing out, and started gathering energy for another attack despite not having much energy to put out. His arm shook with the effort, but soon a bright white ball of ki formed in the palm of his hand.

Goku looked at Vegeta in disbelief and took a hesitant step back. His body was aching after using the failed kaio-ken technique that had all but drained the last of his energy. He hoped Vegeta was bluffing in his attack, but he knew his rival wouldn't hold anything back if it meant victory, even if it was only a spar.

"Vegeta, no!"

Vegeta hardly heard Goku's scream before he released his Big Bang as a satisfied smirk crept across his face. He saw the other saiyan cross his arms in front of himself to block against the attack, but when the blinding light faded he could see his arms were badly burnt and there were deep ruts in the dirt where he dug his feet into the ground to keep himself from being thrown back.

Goku watched as Vegeta ran forward, fist poised to strike. There was no obvious vulnerability in his position, so Goku resigned himself to either blocking or dodging. But by the time he had his mind made up, Vegeta's fist was connecting with his mouth and he found himself flying backward.

Goku righted himself and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. He missed the days when he was stronger than Vegeta. Back when he had never known defeat. He had taken to training at night when Gohan was sleeping, just so he could build himself up even more in order to be able to stand a decent chance against the prince, but there just seemed to be no way of completely catching up to him. He knew they were very close. Neck and neck, really, but it still felt like they were worlds apart when he was on the receiving end of Vegeta's relentless attacks. They were both exhausted, but Vegeta kept going on a seemingly endless source of power. Goku didn't have that. Once his energy was burned up, he was done.

Vegeta phased in front of Goku and threw another punch that finally knocked his rival unconscious. As soon as he saw the younger saiyan hit the ground with hair fading to black, he allowed himself to collapse to his knees to regain his breath. He hardly made it through that one. He was tired, more tired than he had been in a long time, and it was because the foolish clown was getting closer to him in power level. He felt rage bubbling up inside and roared with frustration. How was it that he, the Prince of all Saiyans, had to work _so hard_ to stay ahead of a third-class warrior? It was infuriating. If he didn't watch it, he would be overtaken again, and he would _not_ be second best ever again. He laid back in the grass and allowed himself to rest awhile to regain his strength.

He might have left Goku alone to die if he didn't wish to keep a somewhat suitable fighter to spar with in the future. He might have left him to take care of his own injuries, perhaps not healing from them correctly if he didn't want to make sure his opponent stayed capable of putting up a good fight. Despite what he wanted to do (abandon the fool to suffer alone), he took him back to his house where he could eat one of those blasted beans and have his harpy wife dote over him for the rest of the afternoon, cooking him a huge banquet in honor of his failure.

Not that he cared. If the idiots wanted to give that fool a pat on the back for a job well done, that was their business. Of course he disagreed that he had done anything honorable by losing a spar, yet another in a chain of defeats against the Prince of all Saiyans. Let them build his ego back up so that he'll be willing to go at it again another day. Let him hold on to the false hope that someday, maybe, he'll actually be able to win fair and square. It would just be more fun for him in the future to continuously tear that hope down, inch by inch until he had nothing left. Make his ego suffer the way his had after his first defeat at the fool's hands.

On the flight back home Vegeta lowered his ki so it was barely high enough to stay transformed to conserve energy. Much as he hated to admit it, the spar had taken a lot out of him after all. Apparently, the clown had started taking his training more seriously; his technique and strength had both improved a great deal since their last spar. If he didn't push himself harder, he would end up being surpassed again, and that was something he absolutely would not allow to happen. The mere thought of being second again made his blood boil. With blind determination he increased his speed, intent on training in the gravity room the rest of the night.

Bulma had just gotten home when the saiyan prince touched down in the front yard of the compound, the only indication of his arrival being the stop in the sonic booms that had been growing steadily louder. A couple minutes later, the silence was replaced by the hum of the gravity simulator, occasionally supplemented by a particularly loud explosion from within. Bulma shook her head in wonder at the saiyan's inability to stop training, pushing himself so hard it seemed impossible. She finished changing into more comfortable clothes – a pair of white sweatpants and a blue t-shirt – and went downstairs to help her mother finish cooking dinner.

"Hey, Mom," she greeted her bubbly mother as she walked in the kitchen and got herself a glass of water before offering her help.

Mrs. Brief turned to her daughter and beamed happily. "Oh, Bulma, dear, you're back from work so early? How was your day?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Bulma answered, "It was fine. Lots of boring paperwork, you know. Business stuff. I'd have rather been here working in my lab." She chuckled at herself and moved across the kitchen to see what was cooking on the stove. "You need any help?"

"Sure honey!" Mrs. Brief chirped, "Could you peel the potatoes and cut them up?"

The blue-haired woman nodded and set about completing her task. Normally it wouldn't have taken very long, but when there was a super saiyan to feed, lots of potatoes were needed. Pounds and pounds of potatoes. When she was finishing the second ten-pound bag she decided she needed to invent a machine or robot that would peel vegetables for them. That would save a huge amount of time every day in food preparation and free their hands up to work on some other dish when they would otherwise be stuck peeling for an hour.

"Has Vegeta been around today?" Bulma asked as she finished dumping the cut-up potatoes in the massive pot on the stove. She figured he hadn't been since he had come in a few minutes after she did.

Mrs. Brief shook her head as she started mixing up barbeque sauce for the ribs she was going to grill. "No, dear, he hasn't been home since you left. I made him a big lunch too, but he never came in to eat it, so I put all the leftovers in the fridge. I do worry about him when he skips meals, he works so hard, you know."

"I know," Bulma muttered in a vaguely bitter tone. "We can be sure he'll turn up for dinner then. If I know him, he'll be starving by the time it's ready."

Inside the gravity room, Vegeta's stomach was, indeed, growling. He had completely forgotten about eating he had been so focused on his spar with Kakarrot. Now he was starting to regret his decision to resume his training without grabbing something to eat first. Ignoring his plight, he threw another ki blast at the training bots and dodged it when it ricocheted around the domed room. He was relentless in his training once he got started, and he would make sure he didn't slow down ever, if he could avoid it, since he saw there was still competition between himself and the third-class saiyan in holding the number one spot as strongest.

He grunted when the ki ball hit him in the abdomen and collapsed to the floor. He had turned the gravity up to 1375Gs, much higher than he was accustomed to. It made him sluggish and exhausted him before he got into his training full-swing. But he was persistent and refused to turn the gravity down to a more tolerable level. The harder he worked the higher he forced his ki to go. Dropping down to his normal form would have serious consequences in such high gravity, not to mention it would be really annoying. And so he forced himself on.

When dinner was ready, Mrs. Brief sent Bulma to get Vegeta from the gravity room while she set the meal out on the table. Bulma shuffled down the halls to the gravity room, tired from a long day of work. She slapped her hand against the metal door and yelled, "Hey, 'Geta, dinner's ready. Better come and get it before it gets cold." Without waiting for a response she turned and shuffled back to the kitchen and collapsed into her chair to wait for him to come.

Vegeta heard his woman, but he was undecided on whether or not to come out and eat. He was rather famished, but he didn't want to interrupt his training. His body was getting used to the intense gravity at last and he was in the middle of a battle with the bots. After a minute of deliberation he finally determined that it would be best to stop and eat. What good was his training if he didn't have the energy to keep it up? And so he batted the energy ball into the wall where it exploded and turned the gravity back to normal. His body immediately relaxed when its tremendous weight was lifted, and he felt light as a feather. With a smirk on his lips he left the gravity room to get some nourishment.

The saiyan ate his dinner rapidly and immediately left for the gravity room when he was finished, not offering any response when his blue-haired woman asked where he was going. He heard her irritated huff as he walked down the hall but shrugged it off. What mattered to him was not her approval of his training regimen; he was bent on training the night through if he had to. Anything to grow stronger. Anything to show up the third-class fool.

Bulma was rather disappointed by his sudden, silent departure, but forced herself to get over it. Likely he had sparred with Goku and was on a super-training kick because of it. Even if his pride hadn't been hurt, there was a good chance he was wary of being equaled in power and immediately set forth to widen the gap between himself and his rival. She shrugged when she reached her conclusion and started taking dirty dishes to the sink where Mrs. Brief had started washing them. Sometimes she wondered why they never invested in a dishwasher. Every other part of the compound was high tech, but not the kitchen.

Bidding her parents a good night, she left the kitchen to go tinker around in her lab until bedtime. She missed being able to work on her projects while stuck in the office and wanted to get some work done on them before the day was spent. Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to have the chance to hang out with Vegeta. He was preoccupied with his training. As usual. She sighed and went down the stairs into her lab and turned her computer on. While waiting for it to boot up she sat down at her desk and started writing notes for her newest idea: the ultimate vegetable peeler. Maybe it would even be marketable. Surely restaurants would want the most efficient vegetable-peeling machine out there. Maybe it could become a common household appliance. Why not? Did anyone _really_ enjoy peeling potatoes and carrots?

A couple hours later, Bulma was struggling to keep her eyes open as she yawned every few seconds. She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed as her shoulders slumped forward. Already bedtime. She finished typing her notes and turned her computer off. As she stood she stretched her arms over her head and yawned yet again as she trudged over to the stairs. Upstairs, she heard the gravity console running, but she hardly noticed through her hazy mind. All she could think about was her desire for sleep. If Vegeta didn't want rest, that was his problem.

Bulma dragged herself up to her bedroom and fell into bed. Considering her attire comfortable enough for sleep, she didn't even bother changing into pajamas. She just pulled the covers on and cuddled with her pillow, falling asleep within minutes.

Vegeta, ever attuned to the woman's ki, knew that she had gone to bed. That was the only way he knew it was getting late, since he never bothered looking at the clock on the console. If he wasn't tired, he wasn't going to stop regardless of how late it got. And at the moment, he was filled with adrenaline. His energy was shooting through the roof and he didn't want to slow down, much less stop, his training. He felt her ki drop as she fell asleep and nodded in approval. He knew she was a weak human who needed so much sleep it consumed a whole third of the day. That, to him, was ridiculous. He could function on much less, or none at all, for days. But no matter how resilient he was without rest, he was glad to know she was taking care of herself instead of staying up worrying about him because he chose to train so late.

He narrowly dodged an attack from a training bot as he flipped to the other side of the room and blocked an oncoming ki blast. The explosion shook the room, but he hardly noticed as he was again airborne, dodging and blocking three bots at once. He was amazed at his own ability to adjust to the insanely high gravity and how limber his body felt despite its weight. And the harder he trained, the more aware he became of the sleeping power hidden deep in his core. But he just didn't know how to bring it out, not that he really needed to. But it would be nice to know if the time ever came for him to need it. Perhaps it would unlock itself? He figured so.

It was long after midnight by the time he finally came to a standstill in his training. He had the option of either turning the gravity up higher or calling it a night and going to bed. He couldn't deny the aches that were starting to burn through his muscles; he was visibly shaking from exhaustion. With a sigh of resignation, he turned the gravity console off and exhaled slowly as his body was again relieved of the pressure it had been straining under for so long.

"Tomorrow I will train at a higher level," he told himself firmly. He didn't care if he was aching so badly he wanted to die, he was not going to go easy on himself. Tomorrow, he would nearly kill himself if he had to because he was bound and determined to progress further and faster than ever before.

Face set in solid determination, he left the gravity room and went to his room where he took a long, hot shower before putting on a pair of boxers and sinking into his nest. He half buried himself under pillows and blankets, wrapping himself around a body pillow and instantly fell asleep.

Like clockwork Vegeta woke up before dawn at his usual time. The room was still dark, fairly cold, and too encouraging in his desire to go back to sleep. But he remembered his promise to himself the night before and threw the blankets off, the cold air immediately rousing him from his half-awake state. He hated the cold, whether or not his body could endure it well. He stood up and stretched before changing into a t-shirt and training pants. He forced his feet into his shoes as he walked across the room toward the door and went downstairs to the gravity room. It felt as if he had just left it when he walked in and turned the console up to 1400Gs.

He groaned as the floor seemed to pull him down to it and fought to stay on his feet in an upright position. He clenched his teeth and held himself in his perfect posture as he allowed his muscles to adjust to the new gravity. It hurt. He was still tired and sore and covered in bruises from his training and spar with Goku the day before. But he wouldn't let on to his pain, even if there was no one around to see it. If he showed no weakness, he had no weakness. So he thought.

At 6:15 Bulma knocked on the gravity room door to get him for their morning jog. She heard him screaming behind the door before a loud explosion shook the floor. She had to brace herself against the wall to keep from falling down. When she was again steady on her feet she pounded on the door again. "Vegeta! Oh Kami, are you ok? Vegeta?"

"I'm fine, Woman," his gruff voice replied. She sighed with relief when the door opened, revealing a sweaty, but intact, saiyan.

Her eyes quickly scanned him all over, looking for any signs of broken bones or bleeding, but there was nothing to be found. Nodding, she met his gaze and asked, "What happened? That was a big explosion."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and started walking down the hall toward the front door. "I was training, Woman. What do you think I do in there?"

She ignored his patronizing tone and shrugged. "I don't know, finger painting?"

He snorted and opened the front door. "How did you find out my secret?" he asked as he stepped outside into the cold February morning air. The city was silent and uninviting, appearing dead in the dim gray light. The clouds overhead obscured the sun that had barely risen and the frost on the grass crunched underfoot. A chilling wind whipped around the compound's curved walls, freezing Bulma to the bone.

Her teeth started chattering before she could think to get moving to warm herself up. Vegeta pushed her out the front gate gently and started jogging, gesturing for her to follow suit. Before long she had warmed up and hardly noticed the cold. It actually felt good against her hot skin as she jogged for several miles. She was abnormally quiet through the jog, which Vegeta was unwilling to complain about. As much as he cared for her, he didn't like having to listen to her senseless babble so early in the morning. Half the time she wasn't awake enough to talk coherently and he was left with a headache from trying to understand nonsense.

What he didn't know was that Bulma wasn't feeling very well. Actually, she was barely able to drag herself out of bed, much less go on a jog. While he might have noticed her sickly ki at another time of day, he attributed its weakness to her being not fully awake, possibly still tired from a poor night's sleep. It wasn't that he was insensitive to her unusually low ki, he simply misinterpreted it.

Another thing he noticed was that she was breathing much harder than usual much earlier than usual. After only four miles she sounded as if she had just run two consecutive marathons at full speed. That was when he began to be concerned about her. But for the sake of her pride – and his own – he didn't say anything, instead waiting for her to provide an explanation. She managed another mile, but finally her body gave out as it struggled to take in more oxygen. If Vegeta had not been there to catch her, she would have collapsed on the ground.

"Woman, what is wrong with you?" he barked, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

Rather than answering right away, she gasped for air, but when she started taking breaths that were too deep, she ended up in a coughing fit. Vegeta could hear the fluid in her lungs and had to resist the urge to panic. How had he missed her illness?

When she finally caught her breath again, she gave him a weak smile and shrugged. "Guess I'm sick, 'Geta. Sorry, but I'm going to have to cut the jog off short."

He pulled her into his arms and was shocked when he barely detected a difference between her temperature and his own. She was burning up. _Why_ hadn't he noticed before? She was a weak human, she could die from a stupid disease! And he went along with her out into the cold when she was more vulnerable to the temperature than usual. He was furious with himself for his stupidity as he flew them back to the compound. So much for taking care of her.

Back at the compound, Vegeta rushed Bulma to the infirmary, shouting at Dr. Brief to hurry up and get there to see what was wrong with her. He kicked open the door to one of the rooms and laid her on the examination table. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation; normally, it was she who rushed him there to perform a myriad of tests to see how injured he was, panicking the whole time. Now he was the one laying her on the table and it didn't feel right. Role reversal was typically not his favorite game to play.

Shortly, Dr. Brief came in and looked on in shock when he saw who it was that he was examining. The irony was not missed on him either. With a slight chuckle, he washed his hands and started a routine exam of his daughter, meanwhile asking questions about any symptoms she might have.

"So tired," she mumbled. "Kind of feel nauseous. It's hard to breathe."

Her father nodded as he put the stethoscope on her back and had her inhale deeply. He frowned when he heard the telltale sounds of fluid in her lungs. He had also noticed that her heartbeat was faster than it should be and she had a high fever.

"Bulma, I believe you have pneumonia," he said as he finished the exam. Nothing that would prove deadly, but it wouldn't be any fun anyway. "But let's take an x-ray just to be sure." He motioned for Vegeta to bring her to the room where he could take some chest x-rays to make a proper diagnosis.

Fifteen minutes later he was analyzing the x-rays and nodded slowly. There was a clear picture of pneumonia in her left lung. He sighed and turned to his daughter and shook his head. "Looks like you're going to be out of commission for a couple weeks," he told her.

Bulma groaned and flopped her head back on the table. She hated being sick, absolutely hated it. And now, out of nowhere, she got pneumonia. What a pain. "Got antibiotics?"

Dr. Brief nodded and left the room to go get some medicine out of storage where they kept all the medical supplies. Vegeta watched as he left and glanced over at the woman, expecting her to be on her deathbed. He didn't know what this 'pneumonia' was or how serious it could be for a human. He raised an eyebrow when she looked more frustrated than anything. "What is pneumonia?"

"Just a stupid inflammation of the lungs. It's not that serious as long as it's treated, and we have antibiotics for it," she explained. She had to stop when she started coughing. She could see him tense up when she seemed unable to control herself. Finally, she regained her breath and continued, "Don't worry. It'll just take a couple weeks to get over it and I'll be fine."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and studied her carefully. "You're sure?"

She nodded and smiled at him. It was so cute how he fussed over her in his own way. It didn't involve coddling her or anything, but she could tell that he was flustered over her condition by the way he acted and the questions he asked. She sat up and groaned a little when her movement made her chest hurt. In her peripheral vision she noticed him flinch when she gave the slightest hint of discomfort.

Soon Dr. Brief returned with a bottle of antibiotics and handed them to Bulma. "Take two today and one each day for the next four days," he instructed. "That should clear it right up."

Bulma nodded and opened the bottle and took one of the tablets out. Before she asked, Dr. Brief handed her a small cup of water and she popped the pill in her mouth and swallowed it with the water. She was officially on the road to recovery.

"Now go get some rest, dear," her father said as he helped her off the exam table, letting her lean against him for support. Vegeta followed behind, not sure what he should do. When they started up the stairs and he heard Dr. Brief tell her that they would bring her breakfast, he growled at his own ignorance and stormed off to the gravity room to train. If he wasn't any help to her anyway, there was no point in wasting his precious time standing around.

It was only 7:30AM when he got back to training, so he had a good hour left to work before breakfast would be served. He turned the console back up to 1400Gs and dropped to the floor for some sit-ups and push-ups. It would be foolish to start a battle when there was so little time to finish it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Bulma was lying down in bed with her blankets pulled up to her chin as she tried to warm up. She was shivering despite the warmth of her bed, which only helped to make her more tired than she already was. After freezing for what must have been forever, she got out of bed and turned her thermostat up ten degrees. Most likely she would be burning up soon, but at the time she didn't care. She just wanted to be warm. She was still wearing her sweatpants and hoodie when she crawled back into bed and pulled her blankets up again. A few minutes later, she was fast asleep.

It wasn't quite breakfast time when Vegeta walked into the kitchen and started raiding the refrigerator for his pre-breakfast snack. But he was interrupted from his rummaging when Mrs. Brief set a tray down on the counter next to him with a bowl of oatmeal, a glass of orange juice, and two pieces of toast coated with butter and cinnamon sugar. He quirked his eyebrow at her when she gave him an expectant look.

"What?" he snapped.

Mrs. Brief giggled and pointed at the tray. "Would you be a dear and take this up to Bulma?"

His lip curled in a snarl. "What am I, her servant?"

"Of course not, sweetie, but she's sick and I need to finish cooking _your_ breakfast. And my husband is still getting ready for work. So, unless you want her to go hungry, you'll take this food up to her." She put her hands on her hips and waited, daring him to refuse.

Vegeta was rather taken aback by the blonde woman's behavior. Since when did she have a firm bone in her body? It must be that maternal instinct he had seen present across cultures. Anyway, he did want his own breakfast soon, so with a grudging acceptance of the necessity of his task, he grabbed the tray and stalked out of the kitchen, trying to ignore the woman's grin.

He balanced the tray on one hand as he opened the door to Bulma's room and went inside quietly. There was no hiding the flush in his cheeks resulting from the embarrassment of doing a servant's job. Why was _he_ stuck serving her, when it was actually her who should be serving _him?_ The vicissitudes of fate were once again mocking him. He slammed the tray down on her nightstand, making some of the juice spill out of the glass, but he didn't care. He got some degree of satisfaction out of seeing her jump as she was jolted awake by the loud noise.

Bulma sat up and looked around to find the source of the noise. When her eyes landed on the surly saiyan, she glared at him, silently demanding an explanation for his intrusion. Without words, he pointed at the tray and strode out of the room.

"Great," she mumbled. "If this is how I'm going to be taken care of, this is going to be a worse two weeks than I expected." With a sigh, she pulled the tray onto her lap and forced herself to eat even though she wasn't feeling hungry. At least he cared enough to do this much.

_A/N: Many thanks to Kyuubi123 for input on the story and the great suggestions – I hope this chapter was satisfactory. For those who want to know, Vegeta will eventually teach Bulma how to touch his tail, just not quite yet._

_I'm on Spring Break now, so theoretically I have time to edit/revise my story. If (big if) I update every day, then we'll be almost done with the story by the time classes resume. I'm not sure if that's good or bad for you because that means there will be long periods of time before you're treated with anything from me. Sad, right? Whatever. Anyway, I really would appreciate more reviews; I feel like a lot of people have given up on reviewing. It makes me sad. And if you haven't already, vote on my poll about a sequel...I have a few ideas knocking around in my head, but I'm still undecided._

_Song: "Workaholic" by 2 Unlimited_


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

_The odd couple is what we are in reality  
But we are so happy in everything we do  
The odd couple is what they're saying of you and me  
But we know the feeling we share is true_

Even though Bulma didn't see much of Vegeta during her illness, he wasn't ever far from her. At least, he was always in the gravity room and he kept a careful watch on her ki. If there was so much as a tiny fluctuation he didn't like, he would rush to her bedroom door and listen for any indication that she needed his help, all the while closely monitoring her ki. Sometimes he would stay outside her room for half an hour before he decided she was fine and he could return to his training. But she never knew he was there, he made sure of that.

And so his training was not progressing as rapidly as he wanted because his attention was divided between that and his blue-haired woman. He cursed her weakness more times than he could count during the time it took for her to recover from the pneumonia. Her weakness was making him weak because he couldn't focus on his training. If he didn't hurry and progress, the clown would usurp him as strongest warrior in the universe.

Bulma was a little depressed by the time she was well enough to walk about the compound freely and even do some work in her lab. Didn't Vegeta care to see her? Or did he figure she wasn't worth his time, especially if she was sick? If only she knew the effect her illness had on him. It was nine days after she had been diagnosed with pneumonia when she finally saw him at the kitchen table for lunch.

Vegeta looked up when she came in, but buried himself in the task of eating again. When she sat down at the table across from him he looked up at her pale face, dull eyes, and slightly sunken cheeks. "You look awful, Woman," he told her.

She might have been hurt by his words had she not felt his tail wrapped around her thigh. She knew she didn't look good; what did he expect, she'd been sick for days. Maybe that was his only way of telling her he noticed how terrible she felt and didn't like seeing her discomfort.

"I know," she sighed as she picked up a grilled cheese sandwich from the platter in the middle of the table. She felt his tail tighten a little and had to smile. He really did care.

They both ate in silence while Mrs. Brief chattered away as she made a continuous supply of grilled cheese for the insatiable saiyan. Neither of them said it, but they were both glad to see the other. It had been a while since they had spent any time together. Bulma still didn't know that he had been watching over her for the past few days, and he had no intention of letting her in on the secret. She knew he had chosen her as a mate, but that didn't mean he had to show his weakness. He cared for her more than he cared for himself now, and that was something he could never tell.

When Bulma finished eating, she took her plate to the sink and then sat back down, not trying to hide her steady gaze on the saiyan. "How long have you been super?"

He swallowed the sandwich he was chewing and answered, "Almost two months." Honestly, he had lost count of the days since he had trained through a few nights and didn't even know what the date was anymore. Her sickness had disrupted his routine and now he was just training every waking hour when he wasn't eating, and he only ate when someone told him it was time to eat.

Bulma nodded and smiled at him, which brightened her pale features. "I wouldn't be surprised if you never have to return to your base state."

He smirked as he bit into another sandwich. "I might not have to, but I will eventually."

She chuckled and quipped, "I probably won't recognize you when you're not blonde anymore. I've gotten pretty used to this look."

Vegeta rolled his eyes as he finished off the grilled cheese he was eating. What did it matter what he _looked_ like? Aside from his hair and eye color, he was exactly the same as when he wasn't a super saiyan. Well, ok, maybe he had bulkier muscle too, but it wasn't a huge difference.

He didn't feel exhausted from constantly holding his high ki level for such an extended time. If anything, it seemed easier every day. Figuring that meant he had completely mastered the transformation, he really had no qualms about descending and training in his base form to build his strength from the foundation. Actually, it might be beneficial to practice ascending and descending to fully understand the power difference and how much energy he used in making the transformation to super saiyan. Probably it would still take a considerable amount, even if he had mastered it, and he needed to know just how much so it wouldn't come as a surprise when it was time to fight.

Shrugging, he closed his eyes and with a slow exhalation, lowered his ki until he went back to his normal form. He opened his onyx eyes and smirked when he saw the look of awe in the woman's eyes. He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks as there was less ki pumping through his bulked up muscles. He stuffed one more sandwich into his mouth before pushing his plate away to indicate he was finished.

"I forgot how good you look this way," Bulma whispered as she winked at him.

Vegeta nearly choked as he swallowed. Why did he suddenly feel so awkward when she verbally expressed her interest in him? Desperately trying to avoid her seeing his blush, he stood and strode out of the kitchen without a word of response. He berated himself for his childish behavior as he walked to the gravity room. He shouldn't feel embarrassed when she expressed desire for him; after all, they were going to be mated as soon as the androids were gone. What then? Would he blush and stammer the whole time they were mating? He hoped not.

He rushed into the gravity room and turned the console to 950Gs, feeling relief as he was forced to focus on his training instead of his dilemma about the woman's compliments. He didn't stay at that gravity for too long before he was turning it up. Even with his significantly lower power level, he was able to handle an enormous gravity level with relative ease. It almost felt strange to be training with such low ki. It was more difficult, yet not strenuous. Just different.

Bulma laughed at Vegeta's quick exit and gathered his dirty dishes. It was easy to get under his skin if she used the right method. Insulting him had no effect, but complimenting him, that was a whole other story. He didn't know what to do with it.

"Honey, you shouldn't embarrass that poor, shy boy," Mrs. Brief chided with amusement. Like her daughter, she thought it humorous how badly he took to praises. After all, he deserved every one of them, why should he act as if it was the worst treatment he could receive?

Her daughter laughed until she broke into a coughing fit and had to sit down before she fell from lack of oxygen. Mrs. Brief fussed over her, but gave up when she was waved away.

Once Bulma finally regained her breath, she moaned, "Am I ever going to get over this? It's been days."

"Don't worry, honey," Mrs. Brief reassured her, "Just give it a few more days."

With a sigh, Bulma rested her head in her hands and nodded lamely. She knew it would take longer for the medicine's effects to completely eradicate the bacteria causing her symptoms. It was just frustrating to be sick for so long. It kept her from being able to do much of anything productive and made her so tired she was asleep more than she was awake. She had started feeling better, but there was still mucus clogging her lungs and her chest still hurt. At least the fever and nausea had gone after a couple days. Yawning, she stood up and went into the living room to rest for a while. She laid down on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

True to Mrs. Brief's words – surprisingly – Bulma felt much better after three more days had passed. Her constant fatigue was lifted and she was less prone to coughing. Breathing had become easier and the pain in her chest was entirely gone. Indeed, she was almost completely cured of her pneumonia. When she looked at herself in the mirror she was no longer disgusted by the pale face with dark rings under its eyes staring back at her. Her vibrancy was returning.

Bulma was not the only one who noticed her improvement in appearance. Though he said nothing on the matter, Vegeta was pleased by the observation that she looked healthier. He was hesitant to say anything about her looks, actually, because he didn't want another compliment from her. He felt foolish for avoiding praise, but it still made him too uncomfortable to want it.

It was the first day of March when she declared herself officially better. With a look of defiance, she dressed in a light gray business suit with a violet blouse and marched off to work at headquarters. There was paperwork that needed to be taken care of and no stupid bacteria was able to hold her back from her work anymore. Vegeta let her go with some apprehension. Hadn't she gotten sick last time she went to the office? Was there some connection? Maybe she had just been around someone else who was sick and the contagious disease infected her too.

Still attentive to her ki, he made his way back to the gravity room to train the day away. He had to admit she looked good. The life was back in her eyes, the color had returned to her cheeks, and she was lively and animated. Her usual self. The relief he felt when he saw that she no longer dragged her feet and coughed seemingly constantly was unbelievable. He hadn't even been aware of the degree to which he was worried about her. It was so much trouble being attached to someone else and caring about their well-being. But she was worth it, he figured.

When Bulma entered her office, she couldn't help but look around and remember what Vegeta told her a couple weeks earlier. Someone really could hide in there and ambush her if they wanted to. The likelihood of that ever happening was slim. Why would anyone break into her office? Maybe because she was the vice president and heir of the largest, richest, most powerful corporation in the whole world… a shudder ran down her spine when she thought that his precaution wasn't as unreasonable as she had originally considered it to be.

She planted her hands on her hips as she looked around her office. It needed some rearranging. Not everything had to be pushed against the wall, but there were definite ways to make it much more difficult for anyone to get a good hiding place. More surveillance cameras would be good too, instead of just the one that showed her desk to discourage theft. A better lock on the door to the stairs wouldn't be such a bad idea, either. She decided she would talk to her security personnel later to take care of it. Until then, she had work to do.

Bulma had been sitting at her desk for three hours when she heard the elevator doors open. She finished the email she was writing before turning her attention to whoever had just come in. She gasped when she saw the flame-haired saiyan standing in the middle of her office, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched on his face. "Vegeta? What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

He huffed and walked over to her desk and leaned against it as he surveyed the office from her vantage point. "You didn't listen to me."

"Well, actually, today I was going to talk to security about a new lock on the door and get more security cameras installed. And I was planning on rearranging it myself," she quickly defended herself. She mentally bemoaned her poor luck of him coming to see her before she got around to taking his advice.

"Really?" he snapped. "Or is it that you thought me foolish for suggesting better security?"

Her shoulders drooped a little as she looked up at him with a guilty expression. "At first, yes, but I realized today that you're right. It's foolish of me _not_ to listen to you."

"Then it's just as well that I came here," he told her. She didn't know what his cryptic statement meant, so she decided to shrug it off. But then he continued, "Someone else's scent is here. I don't recognize it."

That caused her to give him her attention. She tried to reason it away, though. "It might just be the custodian. And I meet with my employees in here sometimes. Don't worry about it."

He shook his head and turned his dark gaze on her. Either she was too trusting or he was too paranoid that someone had a vendetta against her. For once, he thought that he was more in the wrong than she was. His eyes roamed over her body, and he again felt relief for her improved health that was so apparent.

"Something wrong?" she asked after a few awkward moments.

He smirked at her and answered, "You mean other than you not following my suggestion?"

"Yes," she grumbled, "Other than that."

"I'm hungry."

She nearly laughed. Leave it to a saiyan to bring that up as 'something wrong.' After locking her computer, she stood up and walked around her desk to stand next to him. "Well, how about we get some lunch then?"

"Very well," he drawled as he drew her closer to him with his tail. "Where shall we eat?" She squeaked with surprise when he started rubbing himself against her, getting his sweaty, alien scent all over her.

"Gross, Vegeta!" she shrieked as she pulled away from him. "What the hell was that?"

"Come along, Woman," he said nonchalantly as he pulled her to the elevator.

"You just scented me, didn't you? Seriously? Humans don't care about scent!"

He quirked his eyebrow at her but didn't reply. He already knew humans had pathetically weak olfactory senses. But that knowledge couldn't change instincts, and he wasn't going to try to avoid living by his instincts if he wanted to be true to his saiyan heritage. And so he had scent marked her, knowing they were going to go somewhere where they would be around a multitude of other humans, lots of males, probably many who would be interested in mating with her. When they got onto the elevator he held her close and coiled his tail around her thigh.

Bulma pushed one of the buttons and explained to him, "We can just eat at the cafeteria here. The food's pretty good and it's cheap. Since I'm the VP I can get you as much food as you want for the price of one meal."

"As if you don't have enough money to buy all the food in the city," he quipped.

She shrugged sheepishly and tapped her foot as she waited for the elevator to reach the floor where the cafeteria was. "Maybe so, but I, personally, don't feel like going out and finding a restaurant where they'll be willing to provide enough food for you."

Vegeta snorted but accepted her reasoning. He really had no problem eating in the cafeteria to begin with, but he figured she felt bad about choosing that since she seemed to feel the need to justify her decision. If the food wasn't bad, then why should he care where they ate? It made no difference to him.

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor to let more people on. Vegeta growled a little but received an elbow in the ribs that silenced him. He gave Bulma a withering glare but kept his peace. He felt crowded in the tiny space, and he wanted to get out or kick the others out, but that didn't appear to be an option. He was pleased, at least, to note how the newcomers looked at him and wisely moved as far away from him as they could.

They bowed their heads respectfully in greeting to Bulma but said nothing more. They seemed jittery as the elevator continued its descent. Most likely they had heard rumors about the strange houseguest staying with the Briefs at the Capsule Corp compound. It didn't bother Vegeta that they were afraid of him. If anything, he preferred fear to any other response.

Finally, the elevator stopped at the floor that housed the cafeteria. When the doors opened, all of the elevator's occupants stepped off and headed to the source of the aromas of food. Vegeta found his mouth watering before he ever reached the cafeteria. He was hungrier than he had originally thought and couldn't wait to eat. He followed Bulma through a set of double doors and quickly surveyed his surroundings as he walked into the cafeteria. There were rows and rows of tables with countless humans milling around, eating, and chatting. The noise level was higher than he would have liked, but it was not unbearable. He wouldn't have cared much anyway; all that concerned him at the moment was getting food.

Bulma led him to the line where they grabbed their trays and started loading them up with food they would pay for when they reached the register at the end. Vegeta thought the trays were too small to fit a decent sized meal for even a human on them, but he really didn't know how much food was reasonable for a human. After all, he never paid attention to how much anyone else ate at meals. His focus was on his own food.

Slowly they made their way down the line. Bulma made herself a salad and took some jell-o, an orange, and a small bottle of water. Vegeta, on the other hand, piled as much food as he possibly could onto the tray. He didn't really care what food he got, he just cared that it was edible and it was going to provide him with much-needed nourishment. At the cash register, Bulma paid for their meals and explained that he was allowed to come back and get as much food as he wanted and it was covered under what she had just paid for: one meal. There were no arguments. Bulma Brief didn't have to pay if she didn't want to, so it was a given that she could say someone could eat as many courses as he wanted without paying extra.

Vegeta followed her as she made her way to the very center of the cafeteria and sat down at an empty table. He figured that, as head of the company, she separated herself from the lower class workers. It seemed reasonable to him. Royalty wouldn't sit with peasants, after all. He set his precariously full tray on the table and sat down next to her and started digging into his food before she could even pick up her fork.

Bulma watched him from the corner of her eye as she slowly ate her salad. She hadn't thought about it before, but he really stuck out in his training clothes when he was surrounded by business suits and lab coats. He looked like a bum with his running pants and muscle shirt, surrounded by the world's greatest geniuses. She giggled when she remembered that he was easily smarter than all of them combined, including herself.

He gulped down a bottle of water and turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "What is so funny, Woman?"

"I was just thinking how much smarter you are than everyone else here," she confessed.

A smirk graced his lips before he started shoveling more food into his mouth. Of course he was smarter. He made _her_ look like an infant in her intelligence, and she was no doubt far superior to all her employees in genius. What he didn't tell her was that, while he _was_ smarter, his intelligence wasn't as impressive as her own. His brain worked like a library in that it could contain all the information that was put into it, but he depended on others to supply the information. People like her. The innovators. The ones who invented, discovered, theorized, and tested. The ones who took the limited knowledge they had and used it to learn new things to teach to people like him. Bulma had imagination. He just had a perfect memory. There was a difference, and he respected her for it.

He finished the food on his tray and stood up to go get more. When he was without his woman by his side, he noticed the wary and curious glances he got from many of the scientists in the room. If he wasn't mistaken, some of them showed a keen desire to study him more closely. A shiver ran down his spine. It wasn't the first time scientists were interested in 'studying' him. But unlike before, he was able to defend himself from them.

He filled another tray with food and went back to sit with his woman. He growled when he saw more people sitting at their table. Three women and one man, and they seemed to be actively engaged in a conversation with Bulma. He slammed his tray down and started eating again even though she was trying to introduce him to the others.

"Vegeta," she hissed, "Would you at least acknowledge them?"

He rolled his eyes and looked up at them coldly. He grunted his greeting to them and turned back to eating, silently erecting a wall between himself and anyone foolish enough to try interrupting his meal. Their table was joined by two more men before he got up for another tray of food. He didn't like how people seemed to be flocking to them. Didn't they know their place? It was foolishly bold for such plebeians to sit with their superior so casually.

Vegeta returned with another tray full of food and sat down and resumed eating. He paused when he heard one of the men ask, "So this is the alien who's been living with you?"

Bulma answered in an irritated tone, "This is Prince Vegeta, yes. He's my houseguest. And I would prefer to not talk about him as if he weren't here just because he's an _alien_."

Had he missed something? Why did she seem so defensive all of a sudden? He looked across the table at the man who was trying to apologize and back at his blue-haired woman. Must have been a cultural thing or something because he hadn't picked up on any slight against him. Something about talking about him… whatever. He didn't care. He shrugged and bit into one of the bananas he had picked up.

"Mr. Vegeta, don't you peel that?" one of the women asked, pointing timidly at the banana he was eating.

He swallowed and defiantly took another bite of it without bothering to pull the peel off. He didn't care what they thought of his eating habits.

"He never peels his bananas," Bulma muttered. He thought she sounded a little embarrassed but couldn't tell for sure. She had no reason to be embarrassed just because he didn't think it was necessary to peel his bananas, did she? That would be ridiculous. Having rationalized his way through that, he finished the banana and started another.

"So what planet are you from?" another woman asked once he had finished off his third tray of food, thinking he was surely done.

He glanced at her and then at Bulma. She nodded at him to answer, so he grumbled, "I am the crown prince of Vegeta-sei. Unfortunately, my planet was destroyed when I was a boy."

"Destroyed?"

With a snarl he stood up and stalked off to get more food. He did not want to explain the destruction of his home and kingdom to a foolish woman he had just met and would probably never talk to again. She was nothing. Not worth expending the effort it would take to explain how his planet met its demise since she knew nothing about anything outside of Earth.

The brunette woman turned to Bulma and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

Bulma shrugged and answered, "It's sort of a touchy subject with him. It _is_ a story that involves the destruction of his home, the death of his people, and the beginning of his life of slavery." She didn't know if she should have said that much, so she decided not to elaborate.

When Vegeta returned to the table with yet another tray of food he saw looks of shock, awe, confusion, and curiosity directed toward him. Several jaws were still dropped from the small revelation they had heard and no one spoke. Silence. Heavy silence. He growled and glared at Bulma, as if demanding the reason for the other humans' odd behavior.

She laughed nervously and folded her hands in her lap innocently. "I think they're all just curious to know more about you."

"What did you tell them?" he growled.

"Nothing much. Just that Vegeta-sei was destroyed, your race was killed, and you were enslaved…" She tried to make her voice sound casual, as if she hadn't revealed any secrets.

"Oh really?" he hissed. He directed his next words to the others at the table. "Did she also tell you that I was forced to kill entire civilizations? That I committed genocide more times than I can count? That I raped dozens of women? Did she tell you that I am a monster, a disgrace to the royal house of Vegeta? Or that I was beaten daily as a child, nearly died hundreds of times, and almost took my own life before I hit puberty? And don't leave out the part where the creature that enslaved me finally killed me four years ago and I went to hell before I was brought back to life."

"You're a fan of the shock factor, aren't you?" Bulma mumbled as she rested her forehead in her hand.

"Don't start conversations you don't want to finish," he snapped. With a cold look of disdain at the others at the table, he started eating his next course.

"I _do_ want to finish it," she said firmly. "Because there's a lot more to tell." She ignored his incredulous look and continued, "What he said is all true, but that's not the end of the story. He came to Earth after he was brought back to life and swore to help defend it from a huge threat that's coming in a couple months. He went to space for a year and while he was gone he rediscovered what it means to be a saiyan and he's changed himself to be an honorable prince who lives to redeem his people through his life. He's good now. He's rejected what he was taught to be by the freak that made him his slave and he only fights to help others now. He won't kill without reason anymore. He's the most powerful warrior in the universe and he's amazing. He's lived through more than anyone would believe and I couldn't imagine my life without him. And we're going to be married in a little over two months."

"Would you _shut up_, Woman?" he snarled.

The men and women sitting across from the strange couple looked on in shock. Not only were they eating at the same table as what could best be described as a demon, but he was talking disrespectfully to Bulma Brief. And she was taking it! And they were going to be married? Was someone playing a joke on them?

"No, Vegeta, I won't. Because you don't give yourself enough credit."

Vegeta pushed his chair back and stood up, tail lashing angrily behind him. "You talk too much," he said in a low voice, barely audible. His tone carried a warning she was hesitant to ignore.

Bulma watched as he went to get more food and sighed. Well, he either hadn't managed to scare away the others or they were too petrified to move since they were still sitting there. She shot them an apologetic look and started playing with her jell-o while normal conversation slowly started up again. She sighed with relief that they seemed willing to accept all she'd said.

The saiyan returned with more food and quickly wolfed it down, oblivious to the lingering unease at the table. He also didn't notice the disbelief floating around the conversation about how much he was eating. And had he known, he wouldn't have cared. But Bulma cared, and she was embarrassed by his behavior even though she knew it was irrational.

She slapped her hand against her forehead when he went to get _more_ food. In an effort to ease her humiliation, she dove into the conversation at the table to draw attention away from her alien companion's enormous appetite.

"So Yoko, what projects have you been working on today?" Bulma asked the woman sitting next to her.

"Well, since they moved me to weapons production, I've been developing a high frequency laser cannon. I have a prototype made, but it's still due for testing," Yoko replied. While she was still speaking the saiyan returned to the table and started laughing. What he was laughing at, she couldn't fathom.

Bulma looked over her shoulder at Vegeta and quirked an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "You humans and your silly toys," he laughed, "It's pathetic, really. I could take out the Earth's entire military with one attack."

He didn't notice Bulma cringe when he made reference to his power in such a negative example. She already knew what he was capable of, but her employees didn't, and she was starting to think perhaps that was a good thing. But he had to go and blow his own trumpet just because humans need 'silly toys' for defense and warfare. She was shocked when Yoko spoke directly to the mocking prince.

"Silly toys?" she spat. "I'd like to see _you_ get hit by my cannon. I don't care what you think you're capable of, no one could survive that."

Vegeta, who had regained some control over himself, started snickering through his smirk. "Fire it at me, woman, I wouldn't even feel it."

"Would you quit being an ass?" Bulma grumbled.

He shrugged and looked pointedly at Yoko. "If you need someone to test your toys, I could do it." Without further comment he started shoveling a large pile of noodles in his mouth.

"You're on," Yoko growled. No one mocked her inventions. She was the guru of high power machinery, which was why she was promoted to weapons development. She didn't care who this guy was, he wasn't going to sit around insulting her without being shown up.

"Don't you have training to do?" Bulma sighed. The last thing she wanted was a dispute between one of her best employees and her prince. They both needed to forget their little argument ever happened and move on with life.

But Vegeta knew what she was implying. Don't test the cannon because she didn't want him to embarrass the other woman. That just wasn't going to happen. He had made a challenge and he wasn't going to back down from it. His pride wouldn't allow it. "If her little gun is really as great as she says it is, it might just provide a good training exercise," he told her.

Yoko's eyes narrowed as she spat venomously, "More like a fight to survive. Meet me in the basement lab after lunch and we'll test my cannon."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Every day my training is a fight to survive. But you wouldn't understand," he told her in a patronizing tone. "I will use my micro-gravity simulator so it'll at least be a light workout. I think 1000Gs should be adequate."

Several jaws dropped. Bulma groaned in exasperation. She couldn't understand why he had to act so arrogant all the time. One of the men voiced the question on everyone else's mind. "Did you say 1000Gs? As in one thousand times Earth's gravity?"

Vegeta smirked. "Of course that's what I said," he drawled nonchalantly. "If I were to ascend to super saiyan I could easily train under 1500Gs."

"Super saiyan?"

The prince's smirk widened to a feral grin. Bulma held up her hands to put a stop to what would inevitably be the most humiliating situation she had ever found herself in and started to protest, but it was too late.

"Yes, a super saiyan. Would you like to see?" Vegeta asked, egging the scientists' curiosity on. He knew they very much wanted to know what he was talking about and he was eager to show off his power, even if they didn't understand it. When he received several nods, he stood up and clenched his fists at his sides and started concentrating his power.

"Everyone down!" Bulma shouted above the noise of the cafeteria. Within seconds everyone in the area was on the floor ducking for cover. It was not abnormal routine for employees at Capsule Corp.

A strong wind swept through the cafeteria, swooped around Vegeta as his hair flickered to gold and blasted out in all directions, blowing over tables and chairs. Papers and trays went flying and the walls looked as if the world's biggest food fight had just ended. It wasn't the first time the cafeteria looked that way, but it was still frustrating for the ones who had to clean up. Slowly, the employees of Capsule Corp rose from their crouched positions on the floor and looked around. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the glowing figure standing alone in the middle of the room.

"Oh Vegeta," Bulma groaned as she stood up with her face buried in her hands. "Why did you have to do that _here?_"

"They wanted to see," he replied casually with a one-shoulder shrug. He left out the part about him wanting to show off.

She glowered at him and planted her hands on her hips. "Alright, 'Geta, I hope you're done eating because we're leaving. Now." Bulma grabbed his arm and tugged on it with all the strength she had, but she couldn't budge him. She was aware of making a spectacle of herself, but at the moment all she cared about was getting the saiyan away from everyone before he caused more trouble. "Would you move?"

He chuckled at her efforts and jerked his arm, throwing her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Why would I want to move, little woman?" He sniffed her neck and smelled her embarrassment and anger mingled with their scents.

"Because you've caused enough problems here for one day," she grumbled. Why did his touch always melt away her resolve to be mad at him? Maybe it was the fact that his hot skin soothed away her raging emotions and relaxed her to the core of her being.

Their moment was interrupted by a woman's voice from behind. "That energy was through the roof! If we could harness that, then, there'd never be energy deficiencies again!"

Bulma felt more than heard the growl resonating through Vegeta's chest. She looked up at him and saw his bared teeth, which sent an involuntary thread of fear running down her spine. He whirled around and snarled at the woman who had spoken. "No one can 'harness' my power, you insolent wench. And if they were to try then I would kill them."

"Vegeta!" Bulma gasped.

"Last time someone tried that they almost killed me!" he snapped.

She was stunned into silence as another small piece of his past slapped her in the face. Without words she embraced him and nuzzled her face into his chest, maybe to comfort him, maybe to protect him from the demons of his past or the ideas her top scientists might have that involve using him as a test subject. She was starting to wonder what _hadn't_ happened to him during his time serving Frieza. It was safe to make the assumption that if it was bad, he had experienced it at some point.

Vegeta wound his tail around Bulma's thigh as he pushed her back. This was not the time or place for her to show her affection. He turned to Yoko, who was still kneeling of the floor gaping at him. "Your lab. Move."

Nodding, she jumped to her feet and ran out of the cafeteria followed by the saiyan prince and the company's vice president. No pressure. She pushed the button for the elevator and waited nervously for the doors to open. Not even a minute later they stepped in and she pushed the button that would take them deep into the bowels of the headquarters building, far underground where the military testing was conducted.

When the doors opened again, the three found themselves in a huge room similar to an empty warehouse. On the right side was a booth where the operator would test the machinery safely behind bullet-proof, fire-resistant, laser-deflecting glass. Throughout the open room were targets of various sorts for the weaponry that could be later analyzed to determine level and extent of damage inflicted by the weapon being tested.

Yoko motioned for Vegeta to go anywhere in the room and watched curiously as he pulled a small device that looked like a watch out of his pocket and put it on his wrist. He pushed a button on the side and even though she couldn't feel it, could see that his body was instantly tensed and straining to move with his normal graceful fluidity. She, along with Bulma, went into the operating booth and powered up the laser cannon.

Vegeta walked around the lab, surveying the area. He noted all his obstacles and places he could use for cover if necessary. Of course he could take to the air if need be, which would enable him to move even faster. Once he had the layout of the lab committed to memory, he started stretching for his workout. No point making himself unnecessarily sore from laziness.

When he had finished his warm-up he turned to the booth and gave his trademark smirk. He wasn't sure where the cannon was firing from, so he instantly put his ki barrier up when he saw his blue-haired woman give him the thumbs up, signaling the test was about to begin. He saw a beam of light coming toward him from the left and jumped out of the way. He could feel the heat from it and was mildly impressed with the power it had. Not enough to seriously hurt him, but for a human weapon, not bad.

It fired again and he dropped to the ground and rolled out of the laser's range. He pushed himself to his feet and instantly jumped over the laser, twisting in the air to land on his feet facing the opposite direction. He couldn't see the laser coming, but he could feel it and bent forward so it shot over him.

Moving sideways, he threw himself into a one-handed cartwheel as the laser shot under him where his second arm would have been. If nothing else, he was getting agility training. He couldn't see or hear the women in the operating booth, but he was purposely putting on a show for his future mate. The laser fired from his right, aimed in a downward angle. He back-flipped out of the way and continued in a series of handsprings as the laser followed him. When he reached the far side of the room he kicked off the wall to the side and tucked and rolled behind a large target that the laser hit.

"Damn he's good," Yoko muttered as she aimed the laser cannon again. Using a moving target certainly made testing more interesting, she had to admit.

Bulma chuckled and nodded. She knew that Vegeta was showing off for her benefit. If he wanted, he could just block the laser and not even bother moving. Instead, he was performing a bunch of perfectly executed acrobatics no ordinary person could do. She watched as he flipped over the laser and landed in a low crouch as it shot over his back. There was no way Yoko could catch him with the cannon if he didn't allow it.

Vegeta was grinning like the Cheshire cat when he shot straight up in the air to avoid the cannon and flipped over so he was running across the ceiling. He doubted the idiot woman had expected _that_ move. Indeed, she hadn't. Yoko shouted in surprise and started stammering her request for an explanation.

Next to her, Bulma had burst out laughing. "Did I mention he can fly?" she gasped out between laughs. She watched as he ran, ducked, dodged, and slid over the ceiling while Yoko tried fruitlessly to hit him with the laser.

"You left that part out," Yoko murmured as she tried to get a good shot at him. She'd never had to crane her neck so uncomfortably in weapon testing before.

Twenty minutes passed before Vegeta grew bored of his training game. Yoko was frustrated beyond words when he landed in front of the booth with arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. "Time's up," he mouthed at the glass barrier. He waited as the two women emerged from the booth and walked over to him.

"Not bad," he shrugged verbally. "For a human. _This_ is real power, though." He raised one arm, palm facing away and gathered a small ball of ki that he shot at one of the larger targets. The whole thing exploded in a massive fireball and the shockwave nearly knocked the women off their feet.

Yoko's jaw dropped. She had no idea what just happened. "H-how did you do that?"

"That's something I don't want to take the time to explain," he said. "Suffice it to say I'm the most powerful being in the universe and that took no effort on my part." He descended back to his base form and stretched his arms over his head as he yawned. "Want another try?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," he answered, his tone deadpan.

Yoko looked over to Bulma, who nodded her agreement to another test against the saiyan. Even without his transformation there was no way he would get hurt, so why not? Extra testing for the cannon would be needed anyway. The women went back into the booth and powered up the cannon again while Vegeta got ready for the onslaught of lasers. He decided blocking it might be a fun game for a while.

He threw his ki barrier up around himself and waited for the first shot. He saw it coming from the lower left and, rather than dodging it, crossed his arms over his chest and took it head on. It jolted him backwards, but he didn't lose his footing. Without his ki barrier he likely would have been severely burned, but as it was he only felt a slightly uncomfortable heat on his bare arms. When the laser stopped he put his arms down at his sides and waited for another shot.

"Oh Kami, is he ok?" Yoko screamed when she saw that the laser got a direct hit. She had expected him to move out of the way again, but it looked like he didn't even try to avoid it.

"Yes, Yoko, he's fine. Continue the test," Bulma sighed. Even though she knew well that the laser couldn't hurt him, she was relieved nonetheless when he showed no signs of damage after the laser, at its highest setting, made a direct hit.

With an uncertain nod, Yoko aimed the cannon and fired again, watching with apprehension as the saiyan didn't even block it this time, instead allowing it to hit him on his unprotected chest. She was shocked that the only thing that came out the worse for wear was his shirt, which he quickly discarded.

Her eyes widened. "Oh my…" She didn't get a chance to finish her thought before she was interrupted by the sound of her superior clearing her throat and giving her an angry glare. 'He's totally ripped!' she finished in her head.

Vegeta was unaware of the effect his display was having on the woman testing the laser cannon as he started alternating between dodging it and blocking it. At times he would use his ki to deflect the ray and send it into one of the targets littering the floor of the test lab, but for the most part he acted as if he was playing a harmless game of dodgeball. Nearly half an hour passed before he again landed in front of the booth and told them he was done fooling around.

Bulma ran out of the operating booth and threw herself into his arms, if for no other reason than to hide him from the other woman's view. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"Of course not, Woman," he purred in her ear as he sniffed her hair. His tail waved behind him playfully as he slid his hands down her arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Toys can't hurt me."

"Cocky jerk," she teased.

"Worrying wench," he quipped back.

He nipped her neck a few times before he pulled back and wrapped his tail around her thigh in his familiar possessive gesture. He had nearly forgotten the presence of the other woman, so he was somewhat irritated when she came into his line of sight.

Yoko laughed nervously under his irate glare and self-consciously brushed her hair back behind her ears. She always got fidgety when someone was scrutinizing her so harshly without saying a word. "Well, I don't know how it would perform against a _normal_ enemy."

Bulma shrugged and walked toward the elevator with Vegeta following on her heels. "Just keep testing it on those targets," she said nonchalantly as she waved her hand in the direction of the various targets set up throughout the lab. "Send me a report when you're done."

The last thing Yoko heard as they disappeared into the elevator was the saiyan's unnerving chuckle. She shuddered and trudged back to the operation booth. She had work to do.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," Bulma chided once the doors had closed behind them and they had the elevator to themselves.

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her and leaned his forehead against hers. "What do you mean, Woman?"

She knit her brows and folded her arms across her chest. "I _mean_ you interrupted my work, destroyed the cafeteria, and wasted my time and Yoko's time with your training game." Even though her words were harsh there was no real venom behind them. If anything, she sounded amused.

"But you're not complaining," he told her confidently.

Complaining? He had made her day infinitely more interesting than it would have been otherwise. He got her out of her own office to do something that could be considered responsible work for the company vice president to engage in. She got to see him performing beautifully in the testing lab and he ended up without a shirt. Complaining? Not a chance.

"Not really, no," she whispered. She put her arms around him and pressed her body against his. "But I'll complain anyway if you don't appease me." She felt his smirk against her lips as she closed her eyes and kissed him.

The elevator door opened and the sound of startled gasps filled the air. The couple immediately broke apart and refused to make eye contact with any of the people who got onto the elevator with them. Bulma was blushing a deep crimson while Vegeta was clenching his teeth and fists as he resisted the urge to blast them all into another dimension. The elevator ride was more awkward than normal as they waited impatiently for it to be over.

Finally, Bulma and Vegeta got off at her office suite while the rest of the Capsule Corp employees went back down to some other destination. "You know," Bulma said thoughtfully, "Maybe more security cameras wouldn't be such a good idea."

"Why not?" Vegeta asked as he again looked around for any signs of foul play. He couldn't figure out why he was so paranoid about someone trying to attack her in her office, but he was. And since his feelings rarely led him wrong, he wasn't going to ignore them.

"Because then I couldn't do this," she murmured as she tilted her face up to him and pressed her lips against his, initiating a passionate kiss. So long, it had been so long since they had a kiss like this. She felt his walls of resistance come crashing down as he backed her up against the closed elevator door and deepened their kiss.

Vegeta's hands moved to the backs of her legs and lifted them up around his waist as he forced his tongue into her mouth. He wanted to taste her sweetness again and never stop. It hadn't taken much for him to give in to her this time; he was weakened from lack of intimacy with her the past two months.

She moaned when his rough hands worked their way back up to her chest and started unbuttoning her blouse. She melted inside when she felt him caressing her soft skin, roaming over her breasts and belly. Her hand moved up to stroke his feathery hair, encouraging him to continue his ministrations.

He gently bit her bottom lip before he moved his mouth along her jaw and down her neck, across her shoulder, and down her chest. He kissed over her breasts, following the edge of her bra and stopped once he reached her other shoulder. Pressing her hard against the door with his body, he grabbed her hips and bit down on her shoulder until she whimpered in pain and he could taste her tangy, coppery blood.

"Vegeta, stop," she moaned as she squirmed in his tight grasp. It wasn't the first time he had bitten her, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt.

She felt him licking the blood from her shoulder, as if cleaning the wound he had given her, and then kissed and licked her neck. The pain forgotten, she sighed and trailed her fingers up and down his spine until she could hear the faint rumblings of a purr. Then, he captured her lips again and pushed his tongue back into her mouth, tracing over her teeth and wrestling with her tongue. He wanted more; no, he needed more. All of her. But he couldn't have her, not yet.

Bulma could feel his excitement building since he was pressed against her, and that only served to deepen her own arousal. She knew he could smell it. Maybe even feel it. She felt so hot all over, as if her body was working extra hard to resist the temptation to try and force herself on him. And his scent… always noticeable, but right now it was so thick in the air she wasn't sure if she could breathe. It was so strong and masculine, like him, it increased her desire as well. She was helpless when it came to being with him. All she wanted was _more_.

Mentally he reminded himself that he needed to be careful. Take a step too far and there would be no going back. His self-control may have been as strong as he was, but even that had a limit, and he was afraid he was going to reach it soon. Every sense was filled with her, and instead of satisfying his desire for her, it increased his need.

"Oh Kami," she moaned when his hands slipped into her bra and squeezed her breasts almost painfully. He was so rough, and yet gentle enough not to really hurt her. She loved it, how he was able to be so careful even as he was losing control over himself.

Reluctantly, Vegeta pulled back from her, letting her feet drop to the floor again. "That's enough," he mumbled.

She nodded in understanding and circled around him as she buttoned up her blouse. She knew he didn't want to stop, and she certainly didn't want him to stop. But he had the discipline to end their passion before it went too far and took away the honor in their relationship. Another time she may have been angry with him for getting her so aroused and then abruptly quitting, but now she saw the strength behind his will and admired him for it. And, in a way, she appreciated the pains he went to in order to preserve _her_ honor as well. It showed how much he respected and cared for her. He could have been selfish and taken her when he wanted, but he didn't.

'Just two more months,' she reminded herself. 'I can wait that long. And then we can have sex as much as we want.'

If only May 12 would hurry up and get over with…

_A/N: Well, what is there to say? Not much time left before the androids come! So review and tell me what you think!_

_(Have you seen how long this story is? Already over 300,000 words! Whoa!)_

_Song: "Odd Couple" by Weezer_


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

_But if I lost you  
There'd be no sunshine shining through  
I don't know what in the world I would do  
If I lost you_

Vegeta walked into the kitchen for dinner after a long day of training. He was actually tired for a change and didn't want to go back to the gravity room after his meal. He slumped into his chair at the table and waited for the blonde woman to set the food out so he could begin eating. While the rest of him craved relaxation, his stomach was growling viciously as it waited to attack whatever food it was offered.

Bulma noticed his fatigue when she gave him a glass of water and he didn't immediately reach for it as usual. Instead, he looked at it for a moment before lethargically reaching out for it. Under normal circumstances, she might not have even noticed the change in behavior, but she was well aware of how incredibly hard he had been training the past week, rarely taking breaks, sometimes skipping meals, hardly sleeping, if at all. She knew his body must be ready to give out after moving through his intense training regimen for days on end.

She sat down across from him at the table and fixed her blue eyes on his haggard face with an expression of deep concern he didn't seem to pick up on. "Hey, 'Geta, you're not going to train anymore today, are you?"

He raised his eyes to look at her for a brief moment before dropping them back to his plate, as if the effort it took to meet her gaze was too much for him to handle. Almost imperceptibly he shook his head no. While he could force his body on for another full night of training, he figured it wouldn't have much benefit, considering the point he was at. His focus was depleted to essentially nothing and he spent more time trying to keep his eyes open than he did actually exercising.

"Good," she chirped. "Then do you want to watch a movie with me?"

His only reply was a silent, half-hearted, one-shoulder shrug. One corner of her mouth turned down as she watched the saiyan's unnatural lack of energy. He really had gone too hard too long, it seemed. Even if she got to spend the evening with him, it didn't look like it was going to be much fun. He was too tired to grunt in response to her questions, let alone engage in an active conversation or – the worst part – kiss her. She hoped some food in his belly would liven him up a little.

Vegeta really didn't care what he got stuck doing that night as long as it didn't involve the gravity room. Or moving. No, he really didn't care to move much at all. He didn't feel weak, just exhausted. His muscles only ached a little, but they still resisted movement because they much preferred resting. He couldn't blame them. His body was shutting down. It was mutiny. It was reasonable. Sleep sounded like the most heavenly thing in the world.

His slow eating caught the attention of Bulma's parents during dinner. Normally, he would have wolfed down numerous portions before they were finished with one plate, but that night he was sluggishly serving himself and his jaw appeared less interested in chewing than in hanging slack to conserve energy.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Dr. Brief asked after finishing his meal to find the saiyan still working away at the beginning of what would constitute a normal meal for him.

"Hn." Vegeta didn't bother looking up. Instead he dropped his fork and shoved his plate away. Not only was he too tired to feed himself, but now apparently everyone had noticed his fatigue and he didn't want to draw more attention to himself. And so, ignoring the low rumblings coming from his stomach, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Mrs. Brief watched him go and turned to Bulma to ask, "Oh sweetie, he's not sick, is he?"

Bulma shook her head. "No, Mom, he's just _really_ tired," she answered. Then she got up from her seat and left the kitchen to find the saiyan prince. It wasn't hard, since all she had to do was follow the strong smell of saiyan sweat. She was surprised that he had already gone upstairs, afraid for a second that he had decided to go to bed instead of relaxing with her.

It would be a lie to say he didn't consider doing just that. But, for a reason not quite known to him, he trudged on down the hall to the recreation room and collapsed face down on the couch in front of the TV. He didn't honestly care about watching some stupid human movie with his woman, but he had, in one way or another, given his assent and he felt it was his duty to follow through regardless of how much he currently regretted his earlier decision. And so he waited for her to join him while fighting the losing battle against sleep.

The only indication that the saiyan was in the room when Bulma opened the door and looked in was his feet hanging over the armrest of the couch. She had to hold her tongue when she wanted to make a comment about how human that made him seem. She walked around the couch to the TV and put a DVD in before sitting at the other end of the couch. While the movie started, Vegeta dragged himself closer to her so he could rest his head in her lap.

Absent-mindedly, Bulma started stroking his thick hair and scratching behind his ears. It was almost as if she was petting a dog. Or a cat. Vegeta started purring when she scratched behind his ears and nuzzled further into her lap. He hadn't been entirely conscious before, but now he was definitely on the downward slope toward sleep. His body was finally able to release all its tension and his mind was numbed by the relief he felt when he let his guard down. There were no threats around anymore; his training was finished for the day. He didn't need to defend himself from anything. Comfort. Peace. Still foreign to him, yet so welcome.

By the time the opening credits were through, Vegeta's purring had crossed with a soft snore. His body was dead weight, completely unmoving. Even his tail was still as it laid limply between his legs. Bulma thought she had never seen him look more peaceful before. Or dead. That sent a shiver running through her. Thinking of him being dead was petrifying.

Vegeta had already been dead once. She hadn't seen him die and didn't know he had been dead before he appeared on Earth along with herself, Gohan, Piccolo, and all the Namekians. But he had, indeed, been dead. And he had been in hell. The man she loved, condemned to eternal torment for his crimes. After coming to know him, that hardly seemed fair. He had done what was necessary for survival. Before his planet was destroyed, he had killed in order to preserve that and the lives of all his people. And then he was shaped into a shadow of his slave-driver. That monster, Frieza. What right did King Yemma have, sending him to hell?

But that wasn't the worst of it. What if he died again, when the androids came? While she was confident in his strength (she couldn't imagine _anything_ ever being more powerful), what if something happened? What if he messed up, just once, in the battle and it led to his demise? He had been killed in the future, how could she be so sure it wouldn't happen in this timeline as well? She couldn't stand the thought of him leaving her behind. He couldn't be wished back, either, since the earth's dragon had brought him back to life after his death on Namek. No, he would be gone forever. He couldn't die. He just couldn't! He belonged with her now. He deserved another chance at life. A life of happiness and fulfillment. And no stupid androids were going to take that away from him.

Rather than watching the movie, Bulma's attention was directed at the sleeping saiyan. He was so peaceful. He looked innocent in sleep; if she didn't know about his past, she never would have guessed he had done horrific evils across the universe. But that wasn't who he was anymore. Now, he was hers. Or, as he put it, she was his. A smile crept across her face as she ran her fingers through his thick hair. Little did she know when she invited him to stay with her that he would be the best thing to ever happen to her. She loved him. She was desperately, hopelessly, madly in love with him. The Prince of all Saiyans. Her mate. Husband?

A thought struck her as she considered where their relationship was going. He wanted to mate with her, however saiyans mated. Did it just involve the act of consummating their commitment to one another, or was there a ceremony involved? And anyway, whatever saiyans did to 'mate' was not what humans did, she was sure. So did that mean he would be mated, but she would just be having sex? What about her? Wouldn't it only be right for them to be married with a human ceremony as well, to make her just as married as he was? She decided to ask him about it later. If they decided to 'marry' both ways, she had some planning to do.

When the movie ended, Vegeta was still fast asleep. Bulma wanted to get up, stretch out, get a snack, and go to bed, but she didn't want to disturb his slumber. Knowing the way he slept, she wouldn't be able to budge without waking him, and then he would be irritated with her despite the fact that it was his fault for sleeping with his head on her lap. Just great. She was trapped on the couch without the possibility of getting comfortable enough to sleep herself.

Vegeta was basically dead to the world. Even a vicious attack on his person would hardly be able to rouse him from his sleep. This was the reason he rarely let himself become so exhausted: he would become too vulnerable in rest afterward since his heightened senses were so dulled by fatigue. But Bulma didn't know that. She didn't know that if she moved, shoved him off the couch, or blew an airhorn in his ear he probably wouldn't wake up. He was as out of it as Goku was _every_ time he slept. Only two things had a chance of waking him up before his body had regained some energy: food or a fight.

Whether or not she knew this, Bulma didn't want to stay in the same place for the rest of the night. And so she whispered, "Vegeta, hey, wake up."

There was not even the slightest response. She started trying to wiggle out from under him carefully to avoid jostling his head around too much. Miraculously, he stayed asleep. She was finally able to free herself and put a pillow under his head to take the place of her lap. It occurred to her how strange it was that he didn't wake up and yell at her for doing so, but she wasn't going to complain. She was able to move around freely without bothering him.

Bulma went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed an apple out of the bowl of fruit on the counter. She bit into it as she made her way back upstairs and went into her bedroom to change into her pajamas. It was getting late and she needed to get to bed soon or she would feel terrible the next day.

In her room, she took her clothes off and pulled on a pair of plaid flannel pants and a tank top before going into her bathroom to brush her teeth, comb her hair, and wash her face. Her nightly routine done, she turned off the light and got into bed. But for some reason, despite being tired, she was unable to go to sleep. She stared at the dark ceiling and tried not to think about how much time was passing.

"What is wrong with me?" she asked herself when she decided her insomnia wasn't going to abate.

She dared to glance at the clock and groaned when she saw that it was 12:24AM. That wasn't good. How did she expect to get up at six if she couldn't manage to get to sleep? With a sigh, she sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. It was late, she was tired, and she was still awake. It wasn't fair. Not knowing what else to do, she got up and left her room, headed for the recreation room where she expected to find the saiyan. She wasn't disappointed.

Vegeta was still sprawled across the couch in the exact same position she had left him in. She felt a twinge of irritation that he was able to sleep so soundly when she was struggling to keep her eyes open but still unable to fall asleep.

"Ok, Vegeta, get up," she ordered. He didn't move. He didn't growl at her. If it weren't for his breathing, she could have mistaken him for dead. "Get up you lazy saiyan," she barked as she kicked his foot. If she couldn't sleep, neither could he. So she thought.

Under normal circumstances, Vegeta was a light sleeper – anything could wake him up. But, now that she wanted to be able to wake him up, he was out cold. What luck. Well, if she couldn't get him to join her in wakefulness, perhaps she could join him in slumber. With a greater effort than she expected, she lifted his arm and slid under it, snuggling against him. His body, so warm, was soothing to her. His scent encompassed her and the gentle rumblings of his purr-like snore lulled her into a deep, restful sleep at last.

The bright light of the sun breaking through the balcony doors was what woke Bulma. She yawned and nuzzled deeper into her pillow to hide from the light. Her eyes snapped open. That wasn't a pillow. That was a saiyan. She grinned as she remembered falling asleep next to Vegeta on the couch and wrapped her arms around him before closing her eyes with the hope of getting a few more minutes of sleep in. She didn't even realize that the sun was up, indicating it had to be fairly late in the morning.

Vegeta, on the other hand, didn't even know the room was brightly lit. His eyes were still closed and his mind was still shut off. Had he known what time it was, he probably would have been extremely irritated with himself for sleeping so long, wasting time when he should be busy training. After all, there wasn't much time left before the androids. Only two months.

Despite her desire for more rest, Bulma was wide awake. She looked over her shoulder to check the time and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that it was 10:42AM. She hadn't slept in that late in a long time. With a sigh, she sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. It was time to get up and get started with the day. She wondered why her mother hadn't gotten her up sooner, but thought maybe she just didn't know where to find her. That or she knew and didn't want to disturb the 'adorable' couple. Bulma rolled her eyes at that idea.

She ran her fingers through Vegeta's hair one last time before standing up and stretching as she walked across the room. She went down the hall to her room and decided to take a shower before going downstairs for a late breakfast. More like a brunch.

After her shower, Bulma dressed in a pair of khakis and a brown sweater. She walked out of her room, stomach growling, to go down to the kitchen, but decided to peek in the rec room to see if Vegeta was still there. His feet were still hanging off the couch. She smirked and shut the door before going back down the hall and down the stairs to get some food. She may not be a saiyan, but she was hungry nonetheless.

As soon as she opened the kitchen door, she heard her mother squeal with excitement and screech, "Bulma, sweetie! You're finally up. I went to get you for breakfast but you and Vegeta just looked so _adorable_ together I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

Figured. Bulma sighed and shook her head. She knew her mother was eccentric. Some may have called her crazy. Whatever she was, she could be a bit annoying. "Yeah, Mom. Is there anything to eat?"

"Sure, honey. I can whip up some waffles for you. Is Vegeta going to be eating too?"

"I don't think so," Bulma answered as she poured herself some coffee. She sipped the hot liquid as she sat down at the table. She didn't know when the prince was going to get up. Despite knowing how tired he had been the night before, she was surprised that he was still sleeping. She could count on one hand the number of times he slept later than dawn.

Mrs. Brief set a plate with one waffle on it in front of her daughter and went back to make another one in case she would still be hungry. Bulma thanked her mother and smothered her waffle in syrup before tearing into it. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she tasted the delicious sweetness, and then she couldn't stop eating. Three waffles later, she was fully sated and ready to get to work in her lab.

She put her dirty dishes in the sink and walked out of the kitchen toward her lab. It was almost noon and she hadn't gotten started with work yet. She _could_ work late that evening, but that idea wasn't appealing. She'd just have to deal with not being as productive as she would like. With a shrug, she opened the door to her lab and went down the stairs.

'I wonder if prince charming will be up in time for lunch,' she mused as she sat down at her desk and turned her computer on. 'I thought he always boasted about how little sleep saiyans needed. A week without sleep shouldn't have this much effect on him, should it? Then again, he's hardly rested for the past two or three months. Guess it finally caught up with him.'

She chuckled as she thought about how he was lying on the couch. By all accounts, he looked like a regular couch potato. But she knew he deserved a break since he'd been working himself into the ground for so long. Impressed as she was with his discipline, she worried about his lack of concern for his own well-being. He'd do anything in the name of growing stronger. Beat himself to a pulp, skip meals until he nearly starved himself to death, refuse to sleep regularly, push his body to the max for extended periods of time. It didn't matter what the cost was. To him, all that counted was how much power he gained through his extreme measures.

'The idiot. His training will be the death of him, not the androids.' Her smile dimmed a little at that thought. It was meant to be ironic, but the sad part was how true it might be. She couldn't even remember all the times he was rushed to the infirmary because of training accidents or sparring injuries. He had nearly died so many times. At least, she thought he could have died. Maybe his saiyan physiology would have kept him alive. Maybe. Or maybe he was counting on medical assistance and that was why he allowed himself to get beaten so badly. Probably, when he was young, he was always thrown in a regeneration tank whenever he got seriously hurt. It was a quick and easy way to get stronger. Get hurt, nearly die, heal, gain power.

But things would change once the androids were defeated. He had basically promised her that himself. There would be time for 'them' when he didn't have to devote every waking hour to his training in order to survive the oncoming threat. It would be so strange having peace of mind again knowing that a potential destruction of the world had been apprehended. She could finally relax again. Vegeta could ease up on his training. She could see her friends again since they wouldn't be too busy with their own training regimens. First thing she would do after the androids were gone would be to have a huge party for all the z-fighters. Well, as soon as she married or mated with or whatever'd Vegeta.

Vegeta didn't come to lunch. Bulma sat alone at the table playing with her food for almost an hour, but he never came downstairs. With a sigh, she pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. The latest report from her mother was that the saiyan hadn't shown himself downstairs since she went down to her lab after eating her late breakfast, so she decided to go check up on him and see if he was _still_ asleep.

Bulma went upstairs to the recreation room where she had left the saiyan prince earlier. The first thing she saw when she walked into the room was a pair of feet hanging over the end of the couch just like before. She giggled again and walked over to the couch and sat on the edge next to him and ran her fingers through his flame of hair.

"Vegeta? Are you ever going to wake up?"

"Shut up, Woman," he mumbled as his hand raised and pulled her hand away from his head. He yawned and rolled onto his side, nearly shoving her off the edge.

She sidled up closer to him to keep from losing her place on the couch. "So you're still alive. Good to know. Are you hungry?"

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head in response, not even bothering with a grunt in the negative.

Bulma poked his back that was turned toward her. "Hey, 'Geta. You know it's after noon, right?"

There was a barely discernible nod of his head.

"Aren't you going to get up and train?"

A tiny shake of the head.

"You're not going to be any fun today."

A slight shrug.

Bulma put her hands on her hips and glowered at the back of the saiyan prince's head. If she wasn't allowed to sleep through the day, then neither was he. Besides, he had things to do. Like train. If he didn't train today then he would make up for a day lost by training for ridiculously long periods of time for the next week and she would hardly get to see him.

"Vegeta, get up," she ordered firmly. Now frustrated when he made no further response, she stood up, grabbed his tail, and tugged on it to get him up.

It worked. The always dignified Prince of all Saiyans was instantly airborne when he felt her pulling his tail.

"Woman!" he roared.

Still holding his tail in her hand, Bulma was unable to keep herself from bursting into hysterical laughter. Seeing him shoot into the air with arms and legs flailing and landing gracelessly on his backside was probably the best thing she had ever seen in her life.

"What's wrong, 'Geta?" she finally managed to gasp out between bouts of laughter.

She didn't notice how his eyes were locked on her hand as it firmly grasped his tail. He tried to gently pull it free from her grip, but the more he tried the more she tightened her hand around it. He paled considerably. "Woman, let go of my tail."

Bulma looked up at him innocently. "Why?"

"You don't know what you're doing," he snapped, trying to gently pry her fingers off his tail.

"Well you _are_ supposed to teach me how to touch it. Why not do it now?"

Vegeta grumbled curses in a few alien languages before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. It could be dangerous teaching her these things. What if she used it against him? Still, he did promise and if she was going to be his mate she had a right to know. After all, he was given free reign over her body to explore and see how she reacted to his touch. He sat down on the couch and yanked her down to sit next to him.

"Fine. The first thing you need to know is that squeezing my tail does not hurt like it would that fool Kakarrot if he still had his, but it _is_ irritating and I would appreciate you not doing it again." He glared at her offending hand a moment before continuing. "Also stroking it tip to base is highly irritating, sometimes even painful depending on how much pressure you use. So don't do it."

Bulma shrugged and nodded her head. "Ok, no squeezing or petting backward. Got it. But what feels _good_?"

"That depends on what you mean by good. This," he said, taking her hand in his and showing her how to stroke his tail from about halfway down to the tip with light pressure, "is close to the feeling I get when you scratch behind my ear."

She repeated the light stroking motion a few times until she heard the low rumbling sound of his deep purr and his muscles visibly relaxed. "What's that do to you anyway?"

He shook his head to clear his mind. "It releases a chemical in my brain similar to your human endorphins. It also has the same kind of effect as oxytocin."

"Oxytocin? Honestly, where do you learn about these things, 'Geta? You're such a nerd," she teased him. "But isn't that the so-called love drug? The one that makes humans bond?"

Vegeta nodded. "That's why it's usually only mates and immediate family members who do this."

"Oh. Well, what else do I need to know?"

He pulled his tail free from her hand and showed her how to pet it up and down in a smooth, continuous motion very lightly so the fur was hardly ruffled. "This does essentially the same thing but it has more of a sedative effect. Female saiyans often used this method to calm their brats, but it feels good for anyone."

Bulma laid his tail in her lap and stroked it up and down as he showed her and was rewarded with a deeper purr. She did it for a while until she noticed his eyelids drifting shut and he seemed hardly able to stay upright as his muscles relaxed more and more. She giggled when his chin fell to his chest and his head jerked back up as he fought to stay awake.

"Enough of that," he grumbled, again pulling his tail away from her.

"You said that it could be really pleasurable, like sexually, right? Show me how?"

"Now is not the time for that."

"I won't do it yet. Just tell me how. I mean, if you don't tell me how will I know what to avoid?"

"Only do the things I taught you to do and don't do the things I didn't teach you about or told you not to do."

"Oh come on. That's not fair. I let you touch me in places that make me…aroused…"

Vegeta took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Fine. But only if you won't do it until we are mated."

"I promise."

"Like this." He took her hand in his again and curled her fingers around his tail tightly at the base, then slowly moved her hand down to the tip. He had to fight the urge to purr and tell her to do it again.

"Is that all?"

He nodded.

"Simple enough." Shrugging, she started lightly batting the tip of his tail as it twitched from the pleasure she had just given him.

He jumped.

Bulma quirked an eyebrow and flicked the tip of his tail again. He jumped again and curled his lip in a snarl at her.

"Stop doing that!" he barked.

"Why?"

"It… it. Don't do it." He turned away, embarrassed.

She grinned and continued batting the tip of his tail and nearly laughed every time he flinched. "I won't stop until you tell me why."

He growled and grabbed both of her hands and flipped her onto her back with her hands held above her head. "Because I don't like it."

"Why not?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the stirrings of desire she felt from being pinned under the saiyan prince in a rather provocative position.

Vegeta didn't seem to notice what he was doing until the scent of her arousal reached him. He looked down at her coquettish smile and rolled his eyes. "You are a vulgar woman."

"Tell me why you don't like it."

"Because it tickles," he mumbled, his words slurring together into near incoherency.

"You mean saiyans can be ticklish? Big, bad, super tough warriors of an elite race?" she teased.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her foolish grin. "Stupid woman."

"Oh lighten up."

"No."

Bulma pouted.

Vegeta's eyes darted down to her protruding lower lip and back up to her clear blue eyes.

"I guess the lessons are over?"

"Hn."

"Then you can get off me now."

Vegeta sat back and shoved his blue-haired woman off the couch so he could lie down and resume sleeping.

Bulma squealed as she fell to the floor. She jumped back up to her feet with her hands planted on her hips and scowled at the saiyan, but his back was once again to her and he couldn't see her fierce expression. It was a wasted effort.

"Vegeta! You jerk, what did you do that for?" she yelled.

"Don't you have better things to do than nag me, Woman?" he groused.

"No."

The saiyan rolled onto his back and matched her scowl with one of his own. "Shut up, Woman."

"Make me."

He quirked an eyebrow. That was an invitation if he ever heard one. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down and locked lips with her. It was by far the best way to get her to stop her ranting and raving as she quickly forgot her anger and bent to his will when he kissed her. This time was no different.

"Cheater," she mumbled when they broke apart for air.

He shrugged. "You weren't complaining."

"No, but I will if you stop now."

Vegeta smirked before obliging her. Getting her to shut up was certainly one of his favorite things to do.

It wasn't long before the proud saiyan fell asleep. She knew he must have been really tired if he could go to sleep so easily and be willing to sleep a whole day away when he could have been training. She propped herself up on her elbows on his chest and looked down at his relaxed expression. Held down by his strong arms wrapped around her waist, all she could do was raise her hand and trace her fingers along his sharp widow's peak and smile.

"What would I do without you, you jerk?" she whispered. "I'm not sure how it happened, but I fell in love with you and I can't imagine my life without you anymore. Don't you dare die fighting the androids."

_A/N: Yep...so that's that. Last fluff chapter for a while, I think. I'm actually thinking about extending the story another chapter or two, but I don't know if I have the motivation for it. I won't bother if I end up deciding to write a sequel (by the way, if you haven't voted in my poll yet, do it). As always, I kindly ask for your reviews! They've been lacking and it's making me not want to update._

_Song: "If I Lost You" by Tritt Travis_


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

_I can't believe you're giving up  
That's not your way  
I can't believe you'd pass the chance to make them pay  
You always had complete control  
Never thinking twice  
You always called the shots, a heart as cold as ice_

"Vegeta, the world's ending and you're going to be late," Bulma chided the saiyan as she squirmed to get out of his iron grip.

"Shut up, Woman," he drawled as he tightened his grasp on her with both arms and tail. It was 9:34AM on May 12 and he was still in West City. Specifically, he was in the Capsule Corp compound in Bulma's lab with her pinned between the wall and his body. He had her in a tight embrace and didn't want to let go. He very well knew he could be going to face his death and might never have a chance to hold her again.

Vegeta was wearing a new suit of armor Bulma had constructed for him out of materials based off his old armor. This armor was better though, more durable. He stood in a royal blue bodysuit, gold-tipped white boots, white gloves, and a white and gold breastplate.

Bulma sighed and put her hands on his chest to try pushing him away. "Seriously, 'Geta, there'll be plenty of time for this when you get back. So get out there, kill the androids, and get back here. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back." She looked up pleadingly into his onyx eyes that, she noticed, had softened somewhat, but only when he looked at her. Everyone else was still met with his cold, calculating gaze, but not her. Not anymore.

"Fine," he mumbled as he rested his head on her shoulder to drown himself in her beautiful scent one last time. His tail slowly uncoiled from her waist and wrapped itself around his own in its militant style. He ran one gloved hand through her blue tresses once more as he kissed her neck and stepped away from her. "I will be back."

"I hope so," she whispered once he had disappeared out the door of her lab. It felt strange not having him next to her after more than a month with him beside her constantly. It was as if he realized he might be nearing the end of his life and he spent most of his time with her instead of training, knowing he couldn't gain any significant power in that amount of time. And now he was going out to fight enemies that had unfathomable power. They had killed him in the future; would they kill him now? Her confidence in Vegeta was shaken by the reality of the battle he was about to engage in. What if that was the last time she would ever see him alive?

Vegeta flew at a leisurely pace toward his destination to conserve energy. Besides, there was no doubt the other warriors would be there ahead of time; while he didn't trust them to defeat the androids, they might at least be able to hold them off for a few minutes.

He was still heading south when he felt a large ki dropping rapidly. When he recognized the ki signature, he rolled his eyes. "Weakling," he muttered. He really didn't care if the scar-faced fool lived or died. A few minutes later he was met with the aftershock of a large explosion and he could see a mushroom cloud of smoke rising in the distance. The battle had begun.

A few minutes later, he felt a group of ki signatures moving quickly away from South City. Probably, Kakarrot was leading the androids away from a populated area, like how he had led him away from his son and bald friend during their first fight. He easily identified Goku's ki, but it seemed off, as if there was something attacking his body from inside. Vegeta's eyebrows raised in some surprise and vague apprehension when he realized it was probably the heart virus that was supposed to kill his rival. It came later than expected, and at a most inconvenient time.

"Guess it's all going to be up to me. How unexpected," he told himself sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Goku and the other z-fighters had landed on an island along with Android 19 and Android 20. They left Krillin and Gohan behind to give Yamcha a senzu bean to revive him after being impaled by Android 20 and having his ki almost completely drained. Of course they didn't know about the androids' energy-absorbing technique yet, but they knew Yamcha was on the verge of death when they finally reached him.

"You might think you know everything there is to know about me, but really, you're not even close," Goku told the androids once Android 20 had finished his explanation of why they were created by Dr. Gero. He sounded unusually cocky when he realized the androids hadn't predicted his ability to transform.

Piccolo smirked and asked, "Your calculations, did they predict that Goku would be a super saiyan?"

"Super saiyan?" Android 20 was confused about what the Namekian meant.

Goku screamed as his ki started raising dramatically. His eyes paled to teal and a great energy swept around him, blowing his hair into its upright position as it flashed gold and a bright aura surrounded him. He had ascended to super saiyan, and his strength was greater than it had ever been before. Unfortunately, it couldn't last with the state his heart was in.

Vegeta felt the surge in Goku's power and cringed. Hadn't the fool noticed there was something wrong? Couldn't he feel the unsteadiness in his own power? It was wavering with the effort it took to maintain his high power, almost imperceptibly, but it was happening nonetheless. And it was likely to only grow worse as time passed.

With a growl, Vegeta turned up his speed to get to the battle before the androids finished his rival off. No one would ever have the pleasure of taking his life but him. He could sense Goku's power continuing to rise and fall erratically as he started his fight with the androids. He had to admit it was much higher than it had ever been before, but since it was unstable, it wouldn't be much help in a prolonged fight.

Piccolo and Tien were watching the fight intently as Goku seemed evenly matched with Android 19. It wasn't long before Piccolo noticed a serious problem with Goku, but he couldn't figure out what it was. His ki wasn't was high as it should have been after just a few minutes, and it was draining quickly.

Tien, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the deficit in Goku's power. He was overly impressed with how much he had improved since the last time he felt his power as a super saiyan when he was talking with the lavender-haired boy from the future. True, he had improved greatly, but the extent of his gains in power weren't entirely evident in his fight with Android 19.

Vegeta was closely monitoring Goku's ki and sensed a huge drop that couldn't have resulted from a blow dealt by the android. He couldn't sense the androids at all and figured it was because they were machines, but he was sure the fight hadn't been too unevenly matched since for a while Goku's energy had stayed around the same level. But now it was dropping and it seemed like he wasn't able to raise it again.

"Idiot! That heart virus is going to kill him before the android does!" Vegeta shouted as he again picked up his speed. If he didn't get to the fight soon, there might be some deaths. He didn't particularly care about any of the other warriors, but he wouldn't let some stupid tin can kill his rival and he wouldn't listen to his woman's blathering about how he could have helped keep the others alive if he had only gotten there sooner. He could sense three more ki signatures also racing toward the battle and recognized them as the revived weakling, the bald midget, and the clown's brat.

He saw the island where the fight was going on up ahead and landed on the top of one of the rock formations near the battlefield. He could see Goku and Android 19 battling it out. He heard the others yell that energy attacks were useless against the androids because they were able to absorb it and use it to strengthen themselves. That was useful information.

When he saw Goku drop out of his ascended state and get pummeled by the android, he figured it was about time he step in. But then he saw the other fighters making a move to interfere, so he checked himself to wait to see the outcome of that effort. There wasn't much to watch; the other android easily stopped them. Meanwhile, Goku's energy was being sucked up by the android he was fighting. Already weakened by the virus, it wouldn't take much more of that before it killed him.

He saw the Namekian trying to sidestep the android and decided it was time to make his entrance. He shot a small beam of energy through Piccolo's chest just as the android did the same. It provided a great distraction so he could fly down and kick the android who was attacking Goku in the face, knocking him back several yards.

A look of shock crossed everyone's faces. No one had even felt Vegeta approaching, and he had somehow managed to defend Goku against the unbelievably strong android. The android got up off the ground and scowled at the saiyan while the others continued to gawk in disbelief.

"Nobody kills Kakarrot while I'm around. Destiny has reserved that pleasure for me," Vegeta said. "You're pitiful Kakarrot. You were warned about the heart virus. You should have known that turning into a super saiyan could only make it worse. Really, Kakarrot, you're far too forgiving to be a great warrior. I'll finish these androids, but you're next. Got it? Good."

Vegeta kicked Goku over to the others. Piccolo caught the younger saiyan by the back of his gi and dropped him more gently to the ground. It was up to them to take care of him now. If they wanted him to live, they'd get him home where he could get the antidote and rest. In the meantime, he was going to destroy the androids. He had seen a bit of what they were capable of and wasn't terribly impressed. Any trepidation he had felt was gone.

Yamcha was given the responsibility of taking Goku home to get him the antidote for the heart virus because he didn't want any part in the fighting anymore. He had already proven to be much too weak to be any help against their mechanical adversaries. He heaved Goku's body over his should and took off toward Mt. Paozu while the others turned back to the fight at hand, ready to step in if need be.

With his usual cockiness, Vegeta smirked at the angry android and crossed his arms over his chest, projecting his arrogant demeanor for all to see. He had no fear of the androids and he was going to let them know it. "So, android, are you ready to die?"

Android 19 sneered at the saiyan prince and rushed toward him, fist raised. Vegeta didn't even try to dodge as the android punched him directly in the face. His smirk was never wiped from his face as the force of the hit failed to budge him an inch, and he hadn't even transformed into a super saiyan yet.

"You're nothing!" Vegeta laughed as he clenched his hand into a fist and drew it back before throwing it forward into the android's face. Android 19 was easily knocked to the ground by that single blow.

The android bounced back to its feet and stared the saiyan down with a look of hatred. It was surprised by the power packed into that one hit, but it wasn't yet convinced that it didn't have a chance against Vegeta. After all, it still had no idea that he was capable of ascending to a super saiyan if he deemed it necessary. For now, he was conserving as much energy as possible in case he needed it later in the fight. It was still possible the android hadn't shown any significant fraction of its true power.

Android 19 flew straight up into the air and watched with surprise as Vegeta followed in hot pursuit at a speed that equaled, if not exceeded, its own. It tried to kick Vegeta, but the saiyan easily ducked under it and swung both legs up to kick it in the chest. He phased above the android and smashed his elbow into its back, sending it crashing into the ground below.

Vegeta laughed as he lowered himself into the crater and stood in front of the android sprawled out on the ground. "What a useless machine!" He took a step back when the android leaped to its feet and grabbed his wrists.

"Do not try to escape. Yes, it is useless. Until I have your energy, I will never let you go," the android said, its confidence restored.

"Oh really?" Vegeta quipped, "Never can be a long time, android." He swung forward and propped his feet on the androids face and started pushing against it with his legs. "You look like you're under a lot of pressure."

"I will never let you go!"

"That's right, android. Never say die!" Vegeta yelled as he ripped the android's hands off. He inspected the red devices in the android's hands that were used to absorb energy while the android frantically scrambled out of the crater.

He dropped the android's hands on the ground and flew up out of the crater and hovered midair as he gathered energy for an attack to finish off the android. The fight had only lasted about three minutes, which slightly disappointed Vegeta. He had hoped for a fight that would at least test his strength. That android could hardly be counted as a challenge.

"Here's a little going-away present for you!" Vegeta shouted as he released his ki blast, which completely incinerated the android.

Android 20 had seen enough. His companion had been too easily destroyed, and he knew his own strength was not that much greater than the other's. Without waiting for a confrontation with the saiyan, he disappeared from view and landed on the ground far away and dashed off toward his lab. Without them being able to sense his power, there was a good chance he could make it there to activate his two stronger androids, 17 and 18.

"Hey, baldy, throw me one of those beans!" Vegeta shouted to Krillen, who was holding the sack of senzu beans.

With some hesitation, Krillen complied, throwing Vegeta a small senzu bean. As soon as he had the bean, Vegeta popped it in his mouth and swallowed it before taking off after the android in the direction he had seen him go. It wasn't surprising that he headed for the mountainous area where there was lots of cover. The saiyan growled with frustration as he searched the numerous canyons for the fleeing android.

Trunks was flying above the city where the androids had attacked, looking over the damage. The city was mostly in ruins, still smoldering from the fires that had only recently been put out. He was afraid that he had come too late and the fight was already over with the same outcome as in the future. He couldn't sense the energy of any of the z-fighters around; that meant they either weren't there anymore, or they were dead.

He felt his hope slipping when he felt a huge power level several miles away. He didn't immediately recognize it, but it was far too high to be a human's. That meant it had to be Goku's, Vegeta's, or Gohan's. His excitement grew as he flew toward the source of the power. The fight wasn't over, it had just been moved to an uninhabited location.

On his way toward the group of high power levels, he saw a large crater that was still smoking from what must have been an enormous explosion. He landed near it and gasped when he saw the head of Android 19, its only remains. He was completely baffled. That wasn't one of the androids he knew from the future. It was round, white, completely mechanical. Nothing like either of the androids he fought in the future. He couldn't figure out what it meant. It looked as though his previous trip to the past had somehow altered this timeline.

Not knowing what else to do, Trunks shrugged and took to the air again. He could still feel several high power levels not too far away, so he decided to go to where the fight must be going on presently.

Vegeta and the other z-fighters had found Android 20 as he ran through the mountains on his way north. They had him cornered, and there was no way out for him. They were about to engage in battle when Trunks arrived on the scene, providing a distraction for him to get away. Android 20 fired a shot at Trunks, who managed to dodge it, but the blast hit a mountain nearby. The explosion shook the ground, knocking some of the fighters off their feet and blinding them with the bright flash and massive cloud of dust.

In an instant, the android disappeared. Since they weren't able to sense his power, he didn't have to get far to avoid detection. All he had to do was find a place where he could hide from them, which wasn't too hard considering the terrain. He had to take whatever opportunity he was granted to get away so he could make it to his lab to activate his other androids. If he didn't, there was no way he had a chance to survive in a fight against the warriors. Vegeta alone would be more than enough to destroy him.

"Trunks!" Piccolo yelled over the noise of the falling debris and continued smaller explosions, "Are you ok?"

Coughing, Trunks emerged from the cloud of dust where the others were standing and nodded. He didn't even think to question how the Namekian knew his name. "I'm fine, but who was that man with the white hair?"

A look of bewilderment crossed the others' faces. "You mean you don't recognize him?" Krillen asked. "That was one of the two androids that attacked the city like you said they would!"

Now it was Trunks' turn to be confused. That definitely was not one of the androids he knew from the future. Neither was the other android they had apparently already managed to defeat. He shook his head as he tried to make sense of it all. "No, that's not one of the androids I warned you about. Either my coming back in time shifted this timeline enough to completely change the _appearance_ of the androids, or those are different androids altogether, which means there might still be more, the ones I told you about. Where did that one go?"

Vegeta sneered at the lavender-haired boy as he angrily crossed his arms over his chest, his tail twitching with irritation. "We don't _know_ where he's going, _boy_. If you hadn't come and let him attack you, I could have destroyed him by now. Now, no doubt, he's hiding in these mountains somewhere."

Trunks frowned and rubbed the back of his neck as an unusual feeling of guilt ran through him. Maybe his father was right. So far, the only thing he had accomplished by coming back was getting in the way, and he had only been back for a few minutes. Even if the androids weren't the same as the ones from his timeline, they were still a threat and needed to be defeated as soon as possible, and he had just hindered that defeat by allowing himself to become an easy target and distraction for that strange android to make a getaway.

"I'm sorry, Father," he mumbled before he could stop himself. Once he realized what he had said, he slapped his hand over his mouth and looked up in horror to see Vegeta's reaction.

Vegeta's eyes had widened comically when he heard what the young man said, but then narrowed in suspicion as he pointed a finger at him accusingly. "What did you say, boy?"

"N-nothing, sir," Trunks stuttered. He didn't know that it mattered if Vegeta knew or not that he was his son. After all, he had to have been born by now, so what difference would it make if his identity was kept a secret?

"Oh really," Vegeta snarled. "I thought I heard you call me 'father.' There's one problem with that: I don't have a son."

"You… you don't?" Trunks was hardly able to get the words out. Either his father was outright denying him as his son – his present counterpart, that is – or he hadn't been born. But that wouldn't make sense. He was born before the androids came. He _had_ to have been born. Or was Vegeta off training somewhere for so long he didn't know he had been born yet?

"How could I have had a son?" Vegeta spat. "I haven't mated with anyone."

Trunks blushed at the implication of Vegeta 'mating' with his mother. It was an awkward thought that he was loathe to have running through his mind. "Never?" he squeaked out, despite his absolute embarrassment. He never would have thought Vegeta would so boldly proclaim his sex life for everyone to hear.

Vegeta's tail lashed behind him with anger at the boy's question. Who did he think he was, asking for more detail then he had already given? He bared his teeth and clenched his fists. "How dare you ask such a question of me!"

"Guys!" Piccolo barked. "Would you stop arguing and remember what we're here for? We need to find that android now before he has a chance to do more harm."

Trunks snapped to attention at the harsh reminder given by the Namekian. It was true, the android was more important at the moment than telling his father who he was. He nodded and turned to the others who were standing around with jaws dropped. They had heard every word exchanged between him and Vegeta, and they were in shock.

Tien was the first of the other warriors to remember what had been going on prior to the strange conversation. "You're right, Piccolo. I think the android was headed north before we stopped him, so chances are he's still headed that way. Maybe he's got a particular destination we need to find first."

"It's possible," Piccolo agreed. "But where would an android be going?"

Vegeta levitated a few yards off the ground before answering, "Back to the hole it crawled out of. You said the androids were created by a Dr. Gero. Does anyone know where his laboratory is?"

The others all shook their heads. They hardly knew anything about Dr. Gero aside from him being the creator of the Red Ribbon Army. After Goku destroyed that single-handedly, Gero had essentially dropped off the face of the earth. No one knew his whereabouts or what he was doing, or if he was even alive.

"Just great," Vegeta muttered, "All useless. You don't know a thing." With a growl, he wrapped his tail tightly around his waist and blasted off to the north to see if he could find the android traveling on foot. It probably hadn't been able to get too far since it wasn't flying, so they still had a good chance of finding it before it could hide from them.

"Man, what a jerk," Krillen sighed. "Well, let's get looking for that android."

The others all agreed and split up to search for Android 20. They all headed north, but flew above and through different canyons in case he was hiding in any of them. Maybe they would be able to catch a glimpse of him as he fled. What none of them knew was that he was hiding in the shadow of a deep crevice in the side of one of the canyons where they could easily pass him without ever seeing him. It was perfect for an ambush so he could jump one of the lone warriors and steal his energy.

Unfortunately for Gohan, the canyon he was searching was the one where Android 20 was hiding. He was looking from side to side as he flew, but he didn't see the android coming from behind after he passed his hideout. The android clamped his hand over the boy's mouth to silence him and held onto him with both arms and legs to keep him from being able to break free as he slowly sapped away his energy.

It only took a few minutes before Gohan's nearly lifeless body was dropped to the canyon floor and the android sped to the north, running and leaping from boulder to boulder through the canyon with renewed speed and strength. He had been careful not to take the boy's energy too quickly so as not to draw unwanted attention in case the others noticed the change in his ki level.

The others were making slow progress on their searches. They were wary of moving too fast in case they missed a hiding place where the android might be. Their nerves were raw with apprehension, having to constantly watch their backs lest the android jump them and manage to steal away their energy. And so they moved on, looking all over for the android who was long gone since he gained power from Gohan.

Android 20 was moving rapidly even though he was sticking to the ground. He leaped from place to place swiftly and sprinted across even ground, heading steadily northward. At his current speed, it wouldn't take long to make it back to his laboratory where he could activate androids 17 and 18. Then the warriors would have a real fight on their hands; there was no way they would be able to defeat his ultimate creations. They were designed to be invincible, with a never-ending power supply.

Vegeta was growing frustrated as the minutes ticked by. He had an unshakable feeling that the android wasn't anywhere around anymore, which meant he was probably going to cause more trouble. Trunks, realizing the same thing, abandoned his search to meet up with his father and figure out what to do next. They hadn't hit it off well, but he knew that at the time, Vegeta was their best bet against the androids; he was sure that the others were going to come, he just didn't know when or how.

"Vegeta!" Trunks called out when he saw his father nearby. "I don't think we're going to find the android here. He's probably gotten way ahead of us."

The full-blooded saiyan scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he hovered in the air, not so much as sparing a glance at Trunks. "I know that, _boy. _Tell me something I haven't already figured out."

Trunks cringed at the harshness of Vegeta's tone. He self-consciously scratched the back of his head and turned away to look at the ground with apparent interest. "Sorry," he mumbled. Before he could say more, Vegeta snorted and headed north. He had an android to find and kill. He wasn't going to waste his time hanging around with a teenager who claimed to not only be a super saiyan, but his son. His son! He didn't _have_ a son and never would!

Android 20 by then had reached North City and was only minutes away from his secret lab. He laughed maniacally as he considered himself home free. Even if the z-fighters were able to figure out where he was going, they would never be able to make it on time to stop him from activating androids 17 and 18. He continued his feverish pace, eager to set his greatest creations free on the world for them to destroy Goku and all his friends and finally exact his revenge.

"Blast it, where would that android go?" Vegeta snarled after flying for a few minutes. He had seen neither hide nor tail of the android and there were no signs he had come by that way. He could have misled them by going north earlier. Perhaps his true destination was in an entirely different direction; there was no way of knowing, and that was beyond frustrating to the saiyan prince. He wanted the android dead _now_. Stupid boy, why did he come back? Just to get in the way? Fool.

Trunks was hard-pressed to keep up with his father even though he hadn't ascended to super saiyan. He was starting to think that maybe he would have to ascend just to keep his father in sight. That would be humiliating. He knew little of his father except that he was proud and considered power of utmost importance in his judgment of others. So if he was unable to keep up without going super, then he would be showing himself as incredibly weak. All he could do was urge himself on and pray Vegeta would stop accelerating and that his own energy wouldn't run out before they ever got to wherever they were going.

Suddenly, Vegeta stopped and looked around in all directions. His tail uncoiled from his waist and lashed about angrily. "Damnit, where is that cowardly machine?" he yelled.

The saiyan's temper, though famous, was still intimidating to the boy who hardly knew him. Sure, he had heard some stories from his mother that he was rather irascible, impatient, demanding, and rude, but seeing him getting so angry was something else entirely. He had been mildly irritated last time they met when they were waiting for Goku to return to Earth. Now, he was extremely aggravated and looked as though he was ready to blow something up. Perhaps the whole planet, if it would achieve his goal. Trunks gasped when he felt his father's ki spiking, and yet he still hadn't transformed into a super saiyan. His power was incredible, comparable to his own when he _was _ascended.

The other warriors noticed when both Vegeta and Trunks powered up and took off to the north and figured they may have spotted the android or at least found some sort of trail. It wasn't long before they had all come together again and were preparing to follow the saiyans when Piccolo noticed that Gohan was not with them.

"Wait, you guys," Piccolo barked at the others as they powered up to fly off, "Where's Gohan? I can't feel him anywhere."

Krillen's eyes widened when he realized his best friend's son wasn't present. He had been in on the search for the android, but it looked as though he hadn't come out of it. That wasn't a good sign, considering what the android was capable off. He swallowed hard and looked all around, reaching out his senses to find Gohan's ki signature. "Gohan!" he screamed, "Gohan, where are you?"

Meanwhile, Android 20 reached his lab and went inside, slamming the huge metal doors shut behind himself. He grinned evilly as he walked over to the chambers that housed his two powerful androids, the androids that would defeat all his enemies effortlessly. Without hesitation, he pushed the button that released Android 17 first.

There was a hiss and a cloud of steam as the chamber door opened. Then a young man with long, dark hair and a red scarf tied around his neck stepped out and glanced at the controller in Android 20's hand before giving a small, fake smile. "Hello, Dr. Gero," he said pleasantly.

"Good, good! You remember me!" Android 20, or Dr. Gero, exclaimed.

"Of course," Android 17 smiled. "You are the one who created me."

By now, Trunks was lagging behind, but Vegeta didn't seem to notice, or care. He had other concerns; namely, finding the android so he could defeat him and get the whole ordeal over with. He kept boosting his speed the more frustrated he got with his fruitless search. It was impossible finding a ki-less bucket of bolts in the wilderness when he could have gone off in any direction after giving them the slip. He hated cowards, and the fact that the coward was a machine made it even worse. How could a machine experience fear? It was pathetic.

Dr. Gero was quivering with excitement as he watched Android 18 step out of her chamber and smile at him with complete recognition. "Hello, Doctor," she greeted him in her cold monotone. He didn't notice as she exchanged a conspiratorial glance with 17.

"So you remember me too?" he asked.

"How could I forget?" she replied, still cold and distant. But he didn't notice the lack of life in her voice. After all, she was an android, how could she express emotion through speech?

Piccolo and the other warriors soon found Gohan lying lifeless on the ground. He was still alive, but his breathing was shallow and he had a deadly pallor. Clearly, he wouldn't survive much longer with the low energy he had. Luckily, they had a solution to that problem.

"Quick, give him a senzu bean!" Tien suggested to Krillen, who was standing beside him dumbly. He was partially in shock seeing his young companion in such a terrible state.

"Oh, right!" he shouted with excitement as he untied the small sack of beans from his belt and pulled one out. He put the bean in Gohan's mouth and smiled when the boy swallowed it. Almost instantly, his color returned and he sat up, fully revitalized.

Gohan looked up at the older warriors and then gasped when he realized what had happened to him. "The android! He was here! And he went that way," he said as he gestured to the north with his head.

"I'm telling you not to touch that! Get away from that chamber!" Dr. Gero shouted angrily at Android 18, who was peering into the large coffin-like box where his last fully mechanical android rested. "I haven't finished programming Android 16 yet!"

"Hm, that could be interesting," Android 17 mused, nodding the go-ahead to his blonde twin. In truth, the angrier it made his 'creator' the more he wanted to do it. A small smile graced his boyish face as he watched Eighteen pushing the button that would unlock the chamber.

"Stop it, right now!" Dr. Gero screamed. "Get away from there, I command you!"

The smile slipped from Seventeen's face as he turned his cold, lifeless gaze to the old man. His blue eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed into a scowl as he listened to Dr. Gero ordering him and his sister as if they were his mindless slaves. The fool.

"I can't keep up," Trunks groaned as he struggled to keep the small glimmer of blue fire growing smaller up ahead of him in sight, but his words were lost in the wind whipping past him. He knew he was going to have to transform or lose Vegeta completely. He was going at his maximum speed in his current state, and it was starting to take its toll on him as fatigue set in.

Vegeta ground his teeth in barely controlled rage as he flew. He didn't know if he was even going in the right direction. There certainly weren't any clues to tell him if the android was nearby. For all he knew, he had passed the android long ago and was going on a wild goose chase. It was infuriating! And on top of that, the boy from the future was trailing after him and losing ground. He was slow, weak, a disgrace. Some saiyan he proved to be. He couldn't be one. And he most certainly was _not_ his son.

Sighing in defeat, Trunks powered up to super saiyan and quickly regained ground on Vegeta. He would have been able to catch up with him, but figured it would be better to hang back a little bit. He knew he hadn't made a great impression on his alternate timeline father, and now that he had to ascend just to keep up with him in the incredible speed of his flight he knew his status in his father's eyes had taken another serious blow. He didn't like losing face with him, but at least he would be able to stay with him as they searched for the androids.

"I order you to get out there and kill Goku and all his friends!"

Androids 17 and 18 raised their eyebrows with mild amusement as they glanced at the crazed man who was trying to tell them what to do. They heard him but chose to ignore him. Seventeen nodded to Eighteen to continue what she was doing, which only further infuriated Dr. Gero.

Android 18 pushed the button that would reboot the sleeping android in the unopened chamber. She didn't think he was too impressive, being neither attractive nor powerful. How could an entirely mechanical android compare to herself or her twin? They, as human-machine hybrids were unimaginably strong with an unlimited source of power. They could draw on both ki and automated weaponry. Nothing could compare to them. They were the ultimate machines of destruction, if they chose to be. That was what they were designed for, after all.

"Stop that, Android 18!" Dr. Gero bellowed as he ran over to her. He grabbed her arm, but she shook him off, knocking him to the floor. "You must not activate Sixteen! He's not ready!"

She huffed at him and finished activating the third android. She was curious to see what sort of design he had, even if it was inferior.

"Now I'm angry," Dr. Gero snarled as he stood up. "You will regret that, Eighteen." He held up the control that would shut her off, but before he was able to push the red button that effectively ended her life, Seventeen appeared next to him and snatched the control away, crushing it in his iron grip. The pieces of the control fell to the ground; it was the sound of mutiny as metal hit metal.

In a flash, Seventeen's hand impaled the mechanized chest of Dr. Gero. A second later, he ripped his hand back out and swung his arm around, wiping the doctor's head off his shoulders in one clean motion. He watched casually as the old man's only partially organic body crumpled to the ground and the still living head rolled across the cold metal floor.

"You can't do this to me! I am your creator!" the head yelled, despite being disembodied.

Eighteen laughed as she crossed her arms over her chest and walked over to the talking head. A fierce look of defiant contempt crossed her face as she stomped on the head, obliterating all that remained of Dr. Gero. "Goodbye, old man," she muttered as she walked back over to Android 16.

"Let's get out of here," Seventeen said as he formed an energy ball in his hand. He looked around the lab once more before throwing it at the large metal doors, blasting them away. The bright daylight flooded in as the dust cleared, the opening to freedom welcoming the androids into a life uncontrolled by the desires of the madman who created them.

His twin nodded and kicked the door off the other android's chamber as it finally started opening, impatient to meet their new friend. The red-haired hulk blinked his eyes open and climbed out of the chamber. He turned his stoic face to the light and walked toward it without a word. Seventeen and Eighteen exchanged a glance, shrugged, and decided to join him. They flew outside and turned back to the lab and simultaneously threw energy blasts at it. The whole mountain erupted in a ball of fire as rocks, metal, and glass flew out in all directions.

Vegeta abruptly came to a stop when he heard a huge explosion not too far away to the east. He turned his head in the direction of the sound and saw an enormous mushroom cloud of smoke rising into the sky. He immediately knew that was where the android had gone. No ordinary human weapon could cause that much destruction. With a smirk curling his lips he shot eastward, more than ready to destroy the cowardly android.

Behind him, Trunks slowed a little, knowing the moment of truth was coming. There was no doubt in his mind that that explosion was caused by the androids he knew too well. He was apprehensive about going off to meet them without as much help as he could get: specifically, Goku. Not even Piccolo, Gohan, Tien, Yamcha, or Krillen were with him. He knew his father was powerful, but he still doubted his ability to defeat the androids single-handedly, and he knew he wouldn't be able to destroy them. If he were able, he would have killed the androids in his own timeline.

Eighteen pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear and turned her head to look around the area. They were far from any civilization, in the middle of a remote mountainous area. Far from any shopping malls where she could get better clothes. "Well, now what do we do?" she asked.

Seventeen glanced at the silent giant next to him and quirked an eyebrow. "I don't know. Android 16, what do you want to do?"

"I must find and defeat Goku," came the lifeless voice of the huge android.

Eighteen shrugged. "Then I guess we'll find Goku. But first I have got to get new clothes."

That was precisely when Vegeta showed up on the scene. The blue flame of ki dissipated from around him as he came to a stop a few feet from where the androids were hovering over the pile of rubble that once stood proudly as a mountain.

Vegeta surveyed the three androids as he crossed his arms over his chest and grinned evilly. "Don't tell me there's more of you androids," he said patronizingly.

Six cold, blue eyes turned to the flame-haired saiyan. They were all surprised that someone as weak as him would show up alone and then try picking a fight. The data they had on the lone fighter, Vegeta, told them he was no threat to them, but that he did tend to be cocky, arrogant, hot-headed, but sneaky. But right now all they could see was his cockiness.

"Hello, Vegeta," Seventeen said as his eyes darted to the young man who soon joined the saiyan. He searched for files on the boy, but didn't find any. Strange. Dr. Gero must not have considered him important enough to study.

Trunks gasped when he saw the two smaller androids. "That's them! Those are the androids who destroyed my world!"

"They don't look so tough to me," Vegeta replied.

"Don't underestimate them!" Trunks cried, "Their power is unfathomable!"

Seventeen smiled coldly. "At least one of you will show us the proper respect. I'll warn you now Vegeta: Don't try to fight us. We just want to find Goku and kill him. We won't kill you unless you try to get in our way."

Vegeta threw his head back and laughed. "You think I'll let you kill Kakarrot? Destiny has reserved that pleasure for me. How many times do I have to tell you tin cans that? So it looks like I get to turn you into something useful, like a toaster or a washing machine."

"Father, don't!" Trunks pleaded. Before he could dodge it, Vegeta kicked him in the stomach and sank his elbow into his back when he doubled over in pain.

"Fool!" Vegeta growled, "Do not call me that. I have no son!"

None of the androids seemed to notice the little scuffle. Android 16 was staring off into space, standing still as a statue, while Eighteen was inspecting her nails and Seventeen was playing with his gun.

"Sixteen, why don't you fight Vegeta so we can get on with our mission?" Seventeen asked nonchalantly when he saw the saiyan was finished beating the unnamed boy.

"No. I will only fight Goku," Sixteen replied.

Eighteen and Seventeen looked at him in surprise. He'd obviously been programmed for that sole purpose, and because he was completely machine, he wouldn't deviate from that mission. They figured his existence must be pretty boring if he wouldn't do anything _but_ what he was programmed to do.

"Fine," Eighteen sighed. "Then I guess I'll do it." Cracking her knuckles, she walked over to where Vegeta was standing. She held her head high, confident in her victory. She didn't mean to kill the saiyan, just put him in his place. Beneath her.

"Ladies first, is it?" Vegeta quipped as he sized her up. She looked powerless, but he knew her looks were deceiving.

Trunks looked up helplessly from his position on the ground. His blurry vision cleared enough for him to see his father facing off against Android 18. He was sure he was about to witness the death of his father in this timeline. Why couldn't he have waited for Goku? Why did he have to insist on fighting the androids alone? He didn't have a chance. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't.

Eighteen and Vegeta both moved into their fighting stances as they finished surveying each other. Eighteen went through every file she had on the saiyan and found nothing terribly impressive. She figured she knew all of his fighting techniques, and that would be enough to help her win even if he proved stronger than she estimated.

Without a word, Vegeta shot forward and clobbered Eighteen in the side of the head with his fist as he spun around and roundhouse kicked her in the leg, knocking her over. She caught herself with her hands and sprang back to her feet, a look of shock in her pale blue eyes. She gingerly touched the spot where his fist hit her, though it didn't hurt.

'He's fast,' she noted mentally. 'My files said he didn't have this kind of speed.'

Vegeta smirked and sank to the ground and swept her feet out from under her. As she fell again he phased behind her and kicked her into the air. He took off after her and overtook her, raised his hands over his head, and clasped them together into a double fist. When she finally reached him he crashed his fists down on her back, sending her back to the ground where she landed on her hands and knees.

"Is that the best you can do, android?" he called after her.

Eighteen was rendered speechless. Not even a minute into the fight she had been bested three times, and it seemed like he wasn't even trying. She got back on her feet and clenched her fists at her sides. "You just got lucky," she spat. Without waiting for a reply she flew into the air and formed balls of energy in both hands and threw them one after the other at the saiyan.

No one saw the saiyan disappear just before the blasts hit the ground. "Hey, sis," Seventeen said, "You didn't have to kill him so soon."

Trunks' heart sank when he witnessed what he assumed to be the death of his father. He hadn't seen him dodge the attack or even try to block it. There was no way he could have survived, especially when he hadn't even been powered up as a super saiyan. "Father."

Eighteen landed on the ground a few yards from what she assumed was the smoldering remains of Vegeta. She tucked her hair behind her ear and rested her hands on her hips as she waited for the smoke and dust to clear. Her eyes widened when it did.

Vegeta stood proudly, his black hair waving in the wind that carried the last of the dust away. Seeing the android's expression, he grinned and cracked his neck. "That was a good one. But I hope it wasn't your best."

He crouched down and clenched his fists, the tip of his tail twitching with amusement. If this was all the more powerful the androids were, he had no reason to fear them. They were no threat to him. The three years of intense training made him strong enough to easily defeat them. What the boy said about the future wasn't going to come true. No, he wasn't going to die at the hands of these androids.

Trunks was in awe. He didn't even try to hide the fact that his jaw dropped when he saw Vegeta was alright after Eighteen's attack. That would have knocked him out, if not killed him, and he was a super saiyan! It was unbelievable how powerful Vegeta had become. He didn't even need to transform to be stronger than the androids. His fading hope began to rekindle.

"This is impossible," Eighteen said, "There is no way you could be this powerful! The information Dr. Gero gathered said you were nowhere near this strong!"

"Well, that's too bad. Looks like he stopped observing me before I reached my true potential," Vegeta replied. Eager as he had been to fight the androids before, he was sorely disappointed that this one wasn't proving to be much of a match for him. Had had her completely outclassed, so killing her would give him no satisfaction. Besides, wouldn't it be killing for no reason? She didn't even threaten him. Would it be honorable to kill her now?

Eighteen took a few steps back from him, never daring to take her eyes off him. His confidence was unshakable. Even if he had been fighting at his maximum, he would be a tough one to beat. She was only using half her power up to that point, but she didn't know if full power would be enough to take him down. She might need help from her brother if Vegeta decided to continue the fight. Either way, she raised her power to her maximum capacity as she readied herself for another round of fighting.

She shot forward and got a few solid punches in before Vegeta could think to block them. He was surprised that she seemed to have drastically increased her speed and strength. Apparently she was holding back before. That was ok with him. He was holding back too.

Vegeta ducked under a right hook aimed at his face and blasted Eighteen away with two beams of ki in her chest. While she was picking herself up from the ground he instantly powered up to super saiyan. He phased behind her and grabbed her arm when she spun around to punch him. He used her momentum to spin her around and throw her into the ground.

She emerged from the rubble scraped up with torn clothes and pushed her hair behind her ear. She balled her hands into fists and started gathering pinks orbs of energy around her hands. There was no way a mere mortal like Vegeta could be stronger than her. She raised her hands in front of her and fired two beams of pink energy. Vegeta batted one away, but the other managed to hit him and knock him off his feet.

He jumped back to his feet and smirked when he saw Eighteen's surprise. He wasn't going down so easily. She was proving to be more of a challenge than the other android was, at least. She even pushed him to power up to super saiyan. Still, there was no way she could defeat him.

"Tell me," Vegeta said, "What happened to the other android? The old man? He ran away before I could destroy him."

"Old man?" Eighteen asked.

Seventeen answered, "You mean Dr. Gero. He turned himself into an android after he created us. We killed him."

"Then that saves me the trouble," Vegeta shrugged. "I guess you can't be all that bad if you got rid of that abomination." He straightened his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. The desire he had to destroy these androids was almost completely gone. He couldn't reconcile the fact that he was the one that goaded them into fighting and the fact that they not only killed the android who did kill innocent lives, but had no intention of harming him to begin with. They were after Kakarrot. He couldn't allow them to kill _his_ rival, but he couldn't destroy them either. There didn't seem to be just cause, and he wasn't going to kill for no reason. Never again.

Trunks decided it was time to speak up when he heard that remark. "Not that bad? Are you crazy? They're monsters! They'll destroy the whole world! They'll kill you and all the other z-fighters and almost every person on the planet!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, _boy_," Vegeta snarled, "These androids pose no threat to me. I could defeat them in my sleep."

"What?" Seventeen blurted out. "In your sleep? You haven't defeated any of us yet!"

"Seventeen," Eighteen hissed, "Shut up." She didn't want Vegeta to be spurred on to prove he was strong enough to defeat them. She was the one fighting and she knew first-hand how capable he was of defeating her. She was giving the fight everything she had and he was hardly sustaining any damage. If anything, she thought he was toying with her.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and levitated a few feet off the ground, ready to leave. The androids were not a threat to his safety and seemed to have no intentions of destroying the planet as the boy from the future said they would. They killed the mastermind behind their creation, as predicted, but didn't seem to care about killing anyone else besides Kakarrot. He could put up with their existence as long as they remained peaceful. If they raised their hand against a single innocent person, he would be justified in killing them. Until that happened, he'd ignore them.

"I'm letting you live, androids. But if you go after Kakarrot or anyone else, then I _will_ kill you without hesitation. You're not worth my time." That said, he flared his ki and flew west, headed for Capsule Corp.

Trunks watched his father go in utter disbelief. That was not at all like the Vegeta he heard stories about. What was going on? The Vegeta his mother told him about was cold-hearted, merciless, and brutal. He wouldn't choose to not kill an enemy just because he wasn't very powerful, he'd still tear him apart, like he had done to the alien on Namek his mother saw him kill. He enjoyed killing weaker fighters! But now he was letting the androids live. The androids he told him would destroy the planet! Didn't he believe him?

He dragged himself to his feet and faced the androids who were watching Vegeta as he disappeared from view. They looked as shocked and confused as he was. "If my father won't kill you, then I will!" he shouted as he pulled his sword out of its sheath. Surely if his father could take on one of them with such ease, he'd be able to do the same as a super saiyan. He just had to hope they didn't gang up on him. Especially the big one. He'd never seen that android before and had no idea how strong he might be.

Seventeen turned to the young demi-saiyan and smirked. "Your father? I have no records of Vegeta having a son. Besides, what makes you think you can defeat us? You're weak."

"If Vegeta could beat you, so can I," Trunks roared as he ran forward, raising his sword to strike Seventeen.

The android didn't even try to defend himself as the sword came crashing down on his shoulder. All that could be heard was the sound of metal breaking as a large chunk of Trunks' sword shattered from the impact. A look of horror came across his face as Seventeen looked at him with boredom and disdain.

"Are you finished with your games now?" the android asked casually. "Because I'm not having any fun with this."

"Fun?" was all Trunks was able to demand before Seventeen hit him with a hard uppercut, which sent him flying back several yards. He hit the ground with a thud, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Eighteen was inspecting her nails again when she looked up to see the aftermath of the short skirmish between her brother and the unknown boy. "Are we going to go now? I want new clothes and Sixteen here wants to kill Goku," she said, pointing to the silent android next to her.

Seventeen turned to the other androids and slapped his hands together as if to rid them of dirt. "Yes. We'll go now. But I think we should find a car and drive to Goku's house. It'll be fun, don't you think?"

"Whatever," Eighteen sighed as she took the air, ready to get on with their mission. Sixteen said nothing, which the others took as agreement to their plan. She flew away as the others levitated off the ground and joined her.

Trunks scrambled to his feet as he watched them leave, dread filling his mind. He stumbled a little, the blow to his jaw having rattled his brain enough to throw off his balance for a while. He couldn't understand why his father had just left in the middle of a fight. He hadn't really finished anything, just showed off for a few minutes and then took off. He knew that he could have killed them if he wanted to, but he didn't even try. It was frustrating, to know that his father had the power to defeat the enemies he lived his whole life running from but chose not to destroy them. And now he had been humiliated with a single blow and his sword was ruined. He sheathed what remained of it and slumped back on the ground to wait for the dizziness to pass.

Vegeta was starting to have doubts about his decision to let the androids go when West City came into sight. He had shown them and himself that he had the strength to destroy them, yet he had let them go free. Why? Because they hadn't threatened him, and in their weakness there would be no honor in defeating them. But still, they were determined to kill Kakarrot. Was it possible for him to assume they would have learned their lesson from one little beating and give up the objective for which they were created? Thinking back, it seemed unlikely. Surely, they were long gone by now; returning to the site where he had found them would be pointless. All he could do was wait for them to show themselves again, and if they did anything hostile he would be forced to blast them into oblivion.

Shrugging, he continued on until he reached the Capsule Corp compound and landed in the front yard. Another wave of indecision rushed over him when he saw the peaceful abode. He didn't know if he could trust the androids to stay away and leave him and his pack alone. What would stop them from trying to go after them if they managed to defeat Kakarrot? Would they, like the androids in the other timeline, make it their mission to destroy the most powerful fighters on the planet for entertainment? What if they attacked when he was unsuspecting? He couldn't sense their ki, which would give them a serious advantage. Maybe leaving them to their own devices hadn't been a wise decision. Maybe he didn't have a right to return to the compound without having disposed of the androids who were still a very real threat.

Trunks pushed himself up to his knees and rubbed his jaw, which was still throbbing in pain. Just one blow… there was no questioning it: the androids in this timeline, somehow, were even stronger than those from his own timeline. Yet Vegeta, without ascending, had given Eighteen a run for her money. Had she merely been toying with him? Allowing him to believe he was superior? Even if that was the case, when he ascended he clearly had the advantage. He took her most powerful attacks head-on and wasn't at all fazed. He was stronger than her. A lot stronger.

"Father, what have you done? Why did you let them get away?" he wondered aloud. He punched the ground in front of him, shaking the earth.

He looked up when he felt several large ki approaching. There, not too far away, he could see the other warriors: Piccolo, Tien, Krillen, and Gohan. He waved to them as they started their descent toward him, preparing himself to explain what had happened only minutes ago. It seemed like an eternity to him, though. An eternity of hopelessness and confusion.

The four warriors landed in front of where Trunks was kneeling and looked around at the destruction. Rocks were still smoldering from the explosions and there was an impressive pile of rubble that looked like it may have very recently been a mountain. And there were no signs of Vegeta, dead or alive, and no androids.

"What happened here?" Tien asked, still looking around with wonder.

Trunks sighed and forced himself to stand up, though he was still a little unsteady. "Fa—Vegeta and I heard an explosion when we were searching for the android. We came here and found the androids I warned you about, plus another one I've never seen before. The one you all saw was actually Dr. Gero. He came back to his lab and activated them, but they killed him. Vegeta fought with one of them and had her totally outclassed, but midway through the fight he decided it wasn't worth his time, so he left. I tried to fight them, but one blow had me down for the count. The three androids left to go find Goku. They want to kill him, I guess that's what they were created for."

"They're going after my father?" Gohan asked, anxiety straining his voice. "But do they know where to find him? We have to go and protect him! He can't fight right now."

The boy from the future nodded and looked up into the clear blue sky. Nothing was going as planned. "I know, Gohan. We need to go get him and take him somewhere safe until we can find the androids and destroy them. Vegeta was strong enough, he just chose not to." His brows furrowed with frustration and his fists clenched at his sides.

"Leave it to Vegeta to pick now of all times to decide it's wrong to kill a weaker fighter," Krillen grumbled, kicking a rock around in the dirt. He looked up at the others, face set in determination. "Well, we'd better be off. The androids already have a head start."

"Right, let's go," Piccolo said as he powered up and took off, the others quickly following after him. They weren't wasting any time in getting to Mt. Paozu to keep Goku safe.

The three androids landed in a small town where they saw a pink van parked outside what looked to be a country store. The drivers of the van were inside getting coffee when they arrived, and the keys were still in the ignition. "This will do," Seventeen said as he climbed into the driver's seat. He waited for Sixteen to get in the back and Eighteen sat in the passenger seat.

"You know this is going to take forever, don't you?" Eighteen asked, her tone more irritated than anything. She didn't understand her brother's sense of fun. She just wanted to hurry up and get the job done so they could find something better to do.

Seventeen started the engine and drove off, despite the screams of protest from the two drivers who had just come out of the store to see their van being stolen. "Oh come on, Eighteen, where's your sense of fun?"

Eighteen didn't answer, instead she just crossed her arms behind her head and looked out the window as they drove down a country road. All around there was nothing to see but snow and mountains in the distance. The scenery was pretty for the first few minutes, but then it became rather dull to continue looking at.

It had been nearly an hour when she finally spoke up again. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"No, but that's part of the fun."

"Goku's house is in Mountain District 439," came Sixteen's emotionless mechanical voice from the back of the van.

"Did Dr. Gero tell you that?" Seventeen asked.

"He did," Sixteen confirmed. After giving his information, he continued staring straight ahead in complete silence, seemingly oblivious to everything else going on around him.

Vegeta hesitated when he reached the front door of the compound. He could go in now and admit he had let the androids escape or go back and try to find them. But they could literally be anywhere in the world by now and he would have no idea where to begin looking. Probably the most logical place to look would be the third-class fool's home, but for some reason he doubted the androids would be there – yet.

It felt strange, coming back without a true victory. He had not retreated, but he had not exactly defeated his opponents either. He shook his head to rid himself of the doubt lingering in the back of his mind, but it wouldn't budge. He tried to do the right thing, letting the androids go since they were weak and not in opposition to him, but now it didn't feel so right letting potentially deadly machines run rampant in the world. They could not only harm him and his pack if they chose to strike at the right moment, but they could kill millions of innocents. And as much as he didn't really care about humankind, this planet was where he had chosen to live, so in effect he had an obligation to protect its inhabitants. What warrior would let the planet he lived on be laid to waste simply because the offender didn't personally threaten him?

"I don't know what to do," he mumbled to himself. "Damnit, I'll never be able to do the right thing." He slammed his hand against the doorframe out of frustration and turned around before flying back out of the city toward Mt. Paozu.

_A/N: And here they are! The androids have finally come! But by a strange twist of fate Vegeta, though he had the power to kill them, didn't! Did he misunderstand what it meant to be honorable? Or is honor not always the best way to go? Guess we'll have to wait and see... Review, review, review! _

_Song: "Day Two: Isolation" by Ayreon_


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

_Hate to say I told you so  
Alright  
Come on  
I do believe I told you so_

Yamcha safely brought Goku home and laid him in bed so Chichi could nurse him. They found the antidote Mirai Trunks brought three years ago and immediately started administering it, hoping that it would have an instantaneous effect on the heart virus. Yamcha tried to stay out of the way as he watched the nervous brunette tending to her husband, not really knowing how he could be of any more help.

A stab of fear struck him every time Goku would groan or cry out in pain and writhe in bed as if he were experiencing the most unbearable agony. Helplessness washed over him as he saw the hero, the unbeatable, pure-hearted Goku, in such a terrible state. How could someone so powerful be brought down by something so small and insignificant as a stupid virus? It just didn't seem right; especially since the world currently needed its hero to rescue it from the threat of the androids. Vegeta be damned. Yamcha would never trust him to finish the job.

An hour had passed since Yamcha carried his younger friend away from the battlefield, and he was thankful that he could still sense all of his friends' ki signatures. Strangely, there was an extra, high ki that he thought seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He had been dividing his attention between the sick saiyan and the others, so it wasn't until the other warriors were almost upon the small mountain home before he realized they were headed straight for where he and Goku were. His hope rose as he anticipated news of victory.

Piccolo, Gohan, Krillen, Tien, and Trunks landed in front of the dome-shaped house and ran inside, eager to get Goku as far away as possible in a short time. They had no idea where the androids were since they had no ki to speak of, which meant they could be just a few minutes away.

"Mom!" Gohan yelled as he ran inside, "We need to get dad out of here!"

Chichi emerged from the bedroom and frowned at the rude behavior of her normally well-behaved son. She taught him better than to run around the house raising his voice and ordering her around. When she caught sight of him running down the hall toward her, she planted her fists on her hips and demanded an explanation through her angry expression.

Gohan halted and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, the androids are coming to fight dad, so it would be safer to move him somewhere else where they won't be able to find him before he's better."

"What?" she screeched. "They're on their way here? Why haven't they been stopped?"

Trunks spoke up on behalf of the younger demi-saiyan, stepping between him and his intimidating mother. "Mrs. Son, please, we can explain on the way. Right now we have to get Goku to safety."

By then Yamcha had also come out of the bedroom to hear the news of the battle from his comrades. What he heard was not what he wanted to hear at all; the androids hadn't been defeated, and what was worse, they were hunting them down for unknown reasons. He gulped and shuffled out into the hall where the others were standing. "I have a jet with me," he said, pulling a capsule out of his pocket, "We can take Goku to Master Roshi's. I'm sure the androids wouldn't know to look there for him."

With the others' nods of approval, Yamcha went outside and popped the capsule open and went back inside to help carry Goku out. Chichi had run back to the bedroom and started packing some clothes, toiletries, the antidote, and, of course, Gohan's school materials. In just a few minutes Krillen and Yamcha were carrying Goku out to the jet where they had moved his bed and laid him down, cringing when they heard his pitiful whimpers.

As quickly as they had come, they all – except Piccolo – loaded onto the jet and took off for Master Roshi's island where they could take refuge from the androids. They were about to take off when Vegeta seemingly appeared out of nowhere and landed next to the jet, eyebrow quirked as he wondered what was going on.

"Vegeta, what are _you_ doing here?" Yamcha demanded when he saw the saiyan prince.

Vegeta scoffed and ignored the question. "Where are you taking Kakarrot?"

Trunks leaned out the door of the jet and scowled at his alternate timeline father. "We're taking him to Roshi's," he explained impatiently. "We need to get him out of here before the androids come to kill him. They're on their way as we speak."

The prince nodded and turned his back to the others, indicating he was done speaking with them. Trunks closed the door of the jet and soon they were lifting off and on their way to the tiny island.

Vegeta didn't watch them go. At the moment he couldn't care less what they were doing with the third-class clown; all he needed to know was that the androids were, indeed, coming after him to fulfill the mission for which they were created. It frustrated him that they would be so foolish as to try killing Kakarrot even though he, the more powerful warrior, had specifically warned them not to go near him. The fools deserved to die if they wouldn't respect his power.

He didn't know how long it would take for the androids to arrive. They may not even be able to sense ki; he really had no idea what their capabilities were. His tail uncoiled from his waist and flicked lazily as his eyes wandered over the grounds of the Son household. He had to admit it was a nice location, nestled neatly in the midst of nature, far from civilization, surrounded by mountains on all sides and a big open sky stretching for miles above. The air smelled fresh, untainted by exhaust fumes and pollution. But he would not envy the third-class. True, he preferred nature to the industrial confines of city life, but he had long since made his peace with unnatural surroundings. They were familiar, if not comfortable.

The saiyan paced for a while, glancing impatiently up at the sky as he expected the androids to make an aerial approach, but all he could ever see in the clear blue expanse were white puffy clouds slowly drifting by. The thought occurred to him that the androids might not even know where to begin looking for their prey. If that were the case, he might be just as well off going out and searching for them instead of vice versa, but since he had no way of knowing, he decided to stay put for the time being.

Seventeen was driving the pink van down another long, winding country road that cut through the mountains. They had been on the road for a few hours, and while he was happy with the adventure of driving, his sister was less pleased. Every now and then she would make a snide remark about the slow means of travel and suggest flying, but he always declined in favor of fun.

Eighteen turned in her seat to observe the third occupant of the van who had been entirely silent for the duration of the trip since telling them where to find Goku's home. He sat with his back against one side of the van, one knee pulled up to his chest with the other leg stretched straight in front of him. His head drooped and his eyes were closed; had he not been an android, she would have mistaken him to be either sleeping or meditating.

"How can he just sit like that?" she asked her brother. "You'd think he would be excited about getting to find Goku."

Seventeen looked at the large android through the rearview mirror and shrugged. "Leave him alone, sis, he's just focused." He smirked and, without warning, drove the van off the road and started up a steep, wooded slope that would get them to their destination faster.

The van jolted and bounced around on the unpaved ground as he swerved between the trees and occasionally slid in the mud. He was having a great time driving off the road, but Eighteen was less than amused, not liking the way she was being jolted all over because of the rough ride.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snarled as she grabbed the dashboard for some stability.

Her brother didn't answer, instead grinning devilishly as he purposely chose the bumpier paths he could find. He figured he would really give her something to complain about since she had incessantly chided him for his behavior since they had started driving.

But she was sick of his 'fun.' Eighteen rolled her window down and leaned out while forming a pink ball of energy in the palm of her hand. Pointing her palm forward, she released the energy, which blew away the trees ahead and formed a wide, smooth rut that would serve as a makeshift road for him to drive on. If he tried to drive off it, she would just make another until he gave up and drove on the smooth surface she provided.

As she ducked back into the van, she heard him pouting, "You always ruin all my fun." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms behind her head again and propped up her feet on the dashboard, enjoying the now smooth ride. It wouldn't be long until they reached Goku's house and then they could finally defeat the man and then go find a store for her to pick out a better outfit than the one her insane creator (who had no fashion sense) provided her.

"So you mean he let those monsters just _go_?" Chichi squawked when Trunks had finished retelling the story of what happened with the androids. The others all cringed at the increasing volume of her voice and prayed to Kami that she would settle down and give their ears a break.

Trunks nodded, somewhat ashamed of his father's foolish behavior. No matter how much he told them about how evil the androids were, he had still let them go even though he apparently had the power to end their reign of terror before it ever began. He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time as he replayed the fight between Vegeta and Eighteen in his mind. The saiyan clearly had the upper hand, but he hadn't finished the fight he started, and he hadn't been powerful enough to finish it for him. He sat cross-legged on the floor of the jet and held his head in his hands. There had to be some way to defeat them even if Vegeta wasn't willing to help.

Not long after the story was finished, Yamcha landed the jet on the beach of the tiny island and threw the door open to take Goku into the small shack. Trunks hardly paid attention to the activity going on around him, instead puzzling over how his father had become so powerful and how he could achieve the same level of strength so he could destroy the androids in his own time with ease. There was no doubt in his mind that these androids were stronger, so if he could beat them, he could beat the ones he had fought for years as well.

"Hey, buddy," Krillen called, waving his hand in front of the teenager's face, "You going to just sit here all day?"

As if waking from a trance, Trunks blinked and looked up at the bald man and forced himself to smile even though he felt like doing anything but smiling. He nodded and took the offered hand to help him stand up. Straightening his back and rolling his shoulders back into his relaxed, confident poise, he stepped off the jet and followed the short man into the house where the warriors had gathered around the TV in hopes that the androids would make themselves known by destruction if nothing else so they would be able to go after them before they ever got the chance to find Goku in his helpless state.

Vegeta was about to give up his wait when he heard what sounded like the revving of an engine not too far away. That was strange, considering there wasn't a road anywhere near the Son home. Crossing his arms over his chest and wrapping his tail tightly around his waist, he turned toward the sound and waited to see who was coming.

He didn't have to wait long before he caught sight of a ridiculous pink van tearing through the forest a short way down the mountain from where the Son house stood. He couldn't sense any ki in the van, which meant there was either no driver or there was a driver who had no ki. In other words, an android. He smirked as the van approached and came to a stop on the front lawn of the humble abode. The doors all opened simultaneously as the androids hopped out of the pink vehicle and made their way over to the house, not even seeming to take notice of his presence.

He watched silently as they strutted into the house, still not noticing him, looking for the younger saiyan they sought to murder. It was evident they had no intention of heeding the warning he had given them, so he would be justified in destroying them now if they didn't give up their mission immediately. Scowling, he went inside and slammed the front door to alert the androids to his presence. They had only been inside for less than a minute and the entire place was completely ransacked as they carelessly threw furniture around and tossed decorations on the floor with disinterest.

"What are you doing here, androids?" Vegeta growled when he saw the dark-haired android peeking around a corner to see who had come in after them.

"Vegeta?" Seventeen asked, his tone giving away his astonishment as it rose from its normal cool monotone, "Why are you here?"

Vegeta slid one foot across the floor to widen his stance as he glared at the boyish android with pure malice. He had given them a chance to go free, but they threw his once-in-a-lifetime offer in his face. For that they would pay. His arms were still crossed over his chest, but the tail that had tightly coiled around his waist was twitching with agitation. The one time he decided to show mercy, it had been blatantly rejected, and that didn't sit well with the prince.

"Vegeta?" he heard a female voice ask from the back bedroom. Eighteen hadn't shown herself yet since she was too busy rummaging through Chichi's clothes in hopes of finding something suitable to wear until she was able to go shopping. Unfortunately, every dress the woman had was old-fashioned and tasteless.

"I told you not to come after Kakarrot," Vegeta hissed as he stalked into the room where Seventeen and Sixteen were waiting for the blonde android to finish looking for new clothes.

Seventeen gestured with his thumb toward Sixteen as he explained, "Sorry, but we had to come. Big guy here has his heart set on killing Goku. It's what he's programmed to do." After pointing to the red-haired giant, he crossed his arms over his chest in a mirror image of the saiyan and smirked smugly. He still didn't understand that he could easily be defeated if he were to get into a fight with Vegeta.

"Well, we'll just have to change his programming then," Vegeta said, his head held high with arrogant pride. He still didn't truly care to destroy the androids since they were so weak, but he wouldn't mind rewiring them to make them more useful machines. Perhaps he could reconfigure their programming to become his personal slaves. He smirked at the idea and chuckled to himself.

Sixteen, as if knowing the saiyan's intentions, turned to face him for the first time. "I will not fight you. I will only fight Goku."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and snorted at the android's determination to defeat _his_ rival. He shook his head and strode over to the enormous android and stared up into his lifeless eyes without a hint of fear. He really didn't know how powerful this one was; it seemed to be made as a personal assassin for Kakarrot, so chances were it was quite strong. Still, he wasn't afraid because even if it was much stronger than the others, they paled in comparison to him so this one wouldn't be much of a challenge either. And if the dumb thing wouldn't fight him, then he would just have to destroy it when it refused to defend itself. He could tell this one was different than the others in that it was purely machine. The others, he could tell, were at least partially organic beings. That meant this one was definitely soulless while the others he couldn't be sure about. That meant defeating this one would be harmless to his honor.

"There's nothing here for me to wear," Eighteen said with disgust as she came out of the bedroom, only to find the short saiyan glaring up at her taller companion while her brother looked on with mild interest. "What's going on?"

Seventeen smiled as he answered, "I think our friend Vegeta is challenging Sixteen."

Eighteen, like her brother, assumed that Sixteen was an inferior model that had far less power than them. If that were the case, then he would have his hands full if he went up against the saiyan prince. Powerful as she was, she had been unable to lay a hand on him in their earlier skirmish, which was deeply unsettling to her. She cocked her head as she watched the events unfold before her.

"So," Vegeta started, his tone casual, "You want to destroy Kakarrot. I'm afraid I cannot allow that. He is mine to kill when I please."

Sixteen frowned at the flame-haired saiyan but said nothing.

"The silent type, are we?" Vegeta asked as he broke into an evil grin. "Fine then." Without warning, he clenched his hand into a fist and thrust it forward into the android's chest, only to have it caught in its giant hand.

Vegeta ripped his hand away and swung his leg around to kick the android, but his leg was caught and he was thrown to the floor effortlessly. Growling, Vegeta got up and bared his teeth at the towering figure. Raising his ki, he shot forward and drove his fist into the android's stomach, but the hit had almost no effect.

"What the hell are you made of?" he snarled as he hopped back away from his mechanical opponent. The android hadn't moved from where he was standing, still looking passively at the offending saiyan. He still didn't seem much interested in the fight, which was enraging Vegeta even more. So, as he thought, this android was much stronger, but that didn't mean he was going to lose. He hadn't broken out the big guns yet.

Eighteen watched wide-eyed as Sixteen easily defended himself. He was fast, much faster than she thought he could be. And he hadn't seemed fazed at all by the solid hit Vegeta got in. Had that been her, she would have been sent crashing through the walls of the house, but he took it standing there as if nothing had happened. She began to wonder just how strong the tall android actually was if he was able to hold his own against the saiyan.

Vegeta was not in the mood to play games with these machines. He wanted to defeat them and get on with life. If that meant completely obliterating them, then so be it. After three years of relentless training, it was time to put this threat behind him. He screamed as he started raising his ki, which skyrocketed until the pressure from his power exploded around him, nearly knocking the androids off their feet. A golden flame of ki ignited around his body as his power raised.

The upsurge in power was enough for Sixteen to react finally. He raised his arm to protect himself from the sheer force, his eyes widened in surprise. It seemed the saiyan was not willing to stop in his assault even though they meant him no harm from the outset. And if his sensors were working properly, the saiyan's strength was more than enough to blast them into the next dimension, which he surely intended to do if this current display was any indication.

"What's going on?" Eighteen demanded of her fellow androids, "I don't have any data on this technique! He shouldn't be able to raise his power this much."

Seventeen angrily turned away from Vegeta to avoid his hair whipping around in his face and blocking his view. He didn't like that he didn't have any more information than his sister did. It was strange how a golden glow appeared to emit from the saiyan. The noticed his hair, eyes, and tail change color earlier, but the show was much less dramatic than this one. He couldn't detect power levels, but he had an idea this couldn't mean anything good for them and their objective. Vegeta was going to prove to be a huge obstacle.

"His power has increased dramatically," Sixteen's robotic voice droned. "I think you two should get away from here now, or he will destroy you."

Powered up to what he figured was high enough to easily defeat the tallest android, Vegeta stood up straight and smirked, his lip curling to reveal his sharp canine. He looked wild and bloodthirsty as his eyes scanned the three standing in front of him.

He raised his arm, palm facing Sixteen, and started gathering energy for his Big Bang Attack. "Time's up, android!" he shouted as he released the beam of yellow energy.

There was no way Sixteen would have been able to block the attack or move out of the way, being at point blank range. However, there wasn't enough power in the attack to totally destroy his body, instead leaving a gaping hole in the middle of his chest. Though he wasn't at all organic, most of his main wiring had been short-circuited and destroyed. His chip was located in his head, but it was unable to control his unresponsive body.

Vegeta's smirk widened to a grin as the giant collapsed to the floor while the other androids watched in horror. Sixteen, who had effortlessly blocked each of Vegeta's attacks before, had fallen after only one ki blast. Obviously if Vegeta had been strong before, now he was completely invincible. Seventeen was reluctant to admit that, but Eighteen knew it full well. She was the one who fought him earlier and she was unable to damage him in the least.

"Well now," Vegeta said as he turned to the twin androids, "Are you still going to pursue Kakarrot, or are you going to surrender? You can't beat me, and I won't let you go this time if you still plan on hunting him down."

Eighteen took a few hesitant steps back away from the flame-haired saiyan while Seventeen cocked his head and put his hands on his hips, assessing the situation. Honestly, neither of them had been terribly interested in killing Goku, but Sixteen wouldn't do anything else until that objective was met so they went along with it. Perhaps killing him was what they were built for, but their humanness was able to override their programming out of spite for their creator. They cared naught for his dreams of vengeance.

As he waited for them to decide if death was worth trying to kill Kakarrot, Vegeta moved over to where Sixteen laid on the floor and looked over the damage he caused. He thought it was a waste of technology, having to destroy something so remarkably well-made just because it was programmed to do what he could not allow it to do. He thought that it might still be salvageable. If not, he would just finish the job and blow what remained into smithereens.

Eighteen didn't know about her brother, but she didn't want to have to fight the saiyan again if she could help it. If he really didn't plan to show mercy again, her short life would be ended almost immediately. "We won't hurt Goku," she whispered from across the room. She ignored Seventeen, who cast her an irritated look. Self-preservation meant more to her than approval from her twin.

Vegeta looked up at her and nodded curtly. "You want to save your friend?"

Two pairs of cold blue eyes widened and narrowed suspiciously at that question. "What do you mean?" Seventeen asked.

The prince snorted and turned away from them. "If you want to save him, then bring him and follow me. I know someone who can repair his damage and fix that… flaw… in his programming. If you refuse, then I will destroy what is left of him right now."

"Why would you do that?" asked Seventeen.

"Do not question me!" Vegeta barked, quickly directing his hand toward the battered android on the floor. "If you don't want to keep him, then I will be happy to remove him from this dimension."

"No!" Eighteen protested, moving over to the fallen giant. "No, we'll go with you."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her, but shrugged and turned away again. He didn't know if what he was doing was a good idea, but he didn't see how it could hurt. If they tried anything against him, then he would just blast them into nothing and end the whole ordeal. He strode out of the house and, without checking to see if they were behind him, took to the air and blasted off toward Capsule Corp. He was afraid, more than anything, of Bulma's reaction to him inviting the androids, who supposedly would destroy the world in the future, to their home so she could repair one of them.

Seventeen walked out of the house while Eighteen followed, dragging Sixteen by the arm. He was too large to pick up and his body was no longer functional, so he couldn't move himself in any way. They took to the air and followed Vegeta. Not knowing what to expect, they prepared themselves for any deception.

"What? You've got to be kidding me!" Bulma screamed over the phone. She was talking to Krillen, who had just called from Master Roshi's house. He told her how Vegeta decided not to destroy the androids for some reason none of them could come up with and how they had to move Goku to Roshi's in order to hide him from them.

Krillen winced and held the phone away at arm's length. Everyone in the room could hear Bulma's reaction to the news and laughed nervously. She was, perhaps, more intimidating than the androids themselves when she was upset. When the screaming ceased, Krillen put the phone back to his ear and mumbled, "It's what happened, Bulma. Now we don't know where any of them are. Vegeta went to Goku's, but we don't know if he stayed there or went to look for the androids."

Bulma, who was standing in the kitchen of the Capsule Corp compound, started banging her head against the wall repeatedly. She couldn't imagine why Vegeta would be stupid enough to let those monsters roam free when he _could_ have already destroyed them and restored peace to Earth. And now he and the androids were all missing. That couldn't be good.

"Bulma, you alright over there?" Krillen asked hesitantly when she failed to respond.

The blue-haired genius sighed and nodded before she remembered her bald friend couldn't see her. "Yeah, Krillen. I'm just worried, that's all. Do you want me to come over? I'd like to see Goku and make sure everyone's alright."

"Sure, if you want to."

Bulma rubbed her forehead and nodded again. "Yeah, I do. I'll be over soon."

After she hung up, she shook her head and trudged out of the kitchen. More than anything, she was confused. It wasn't like Vegeta to stop a fight once it started and let the enemy go unscathed. Maybe he actually wasn't powerful enough to defeat the androids, so he left calmly as a bluff so he could go train more. But would a day of training really be enough to make a difference? She doubted it.

Bulma went upstairs to grab a jacket, her purse, and her fastest jet, still mulling over what would make Vegeta stop the fight. Now was not the time for him to discover mercy. She was still afraid of the boy from the future's prediction coming true. How could she live on if everyone she cared about was killed? He said that everyone was gone in his time: Krillen, Tien, Chiaotzu, Yamcha, Piccolo, Goku, Gohan, hell, even Yajirobe. And Vegeta. Her heart just about broke when she thought of them all dying and not being able to be brought back because there would be no more dragonballs when Piccolo died.

She went back downstairs and opened the front door only to find Vegeta and three others landing in the front yard of the compound. She backpedaled inside, completely shocked to see him there at that moment. "Vegeta? Who are they?" she squeaked out, once she was safely supporting herself against a wall.

The golden-haired saiyan chuckled at her reaction and went in to her. "These are the _terrifying_ androids, Woman. As you can see, I damaged one of them and I'd like you to repair him after you change his programming. The others have agreed not to wreak any more havoc."

He watched as her blue eyes searched his face for a moment before flicking back and forth between him and the androids. He could see she was doubting him and didn't like it. He advanced on her, placing his hands on either side of her on the wall and leaned in so his forehead was resting against hers. "Woman, do not worry. If they try to harm anyone, I will destroy them. I thought you might be interested in seeing this technology."

Bulma was still speechless. How could Vegeta be so stupid as to bring the enemies to her _home_? He said he would destroy them if they attacked, but would he be fast enough? Would he be able to? She was terrified that this would all go wrong.

Vegeta could smell the fear radiating off her body and growled low in his chest. "Don't you trust me?" he snarled.

"I – I just don't know if this is a good idea, Vegeta," she whimpered.

He shrugged and moved away from her. "Fine, then I'll destroy them," he said nonchalantly. The androids snapped their heads to face him, fear written across their young features.

As he raised his arm, Seventeen and Eighteen both shifted into defensive stances, though they were both sure at this point that he would have no trouble ending their existence. The remains of their humanness were screaming at them to run away to safety. They were deeply afraid of dying so soon after earning their freedom, and there was nothing they could do to save themselves.

"You said you wouldn't hurt us!" Eighteen pleaded as Vegeta gathered energy.

Vegeta sneered at her, feeling only contempt for her cowardice. "I said no such thing, android," he spat.

Both androids took a few steps back, preparing themselves for the end. Bulma looked on, wondering why the androids looked so afraid. Did they know that Vegeta was capable of destroying them without a shred of doubt? If they were machines, how could they feel fear anyway? It didn't seem right. Only a creature with a soul could feel fear of death, right?

"Stop! Vegeta, don't," Bulma shouted over the wind surrounding his body as his energy once again skyrocketed.

Vegeta looked over his shoulder at her in exasperation. One second she wanted him to get rid of them because she was afraid and the next she wanted him to spare them. The damn woman couldn't make up her mind and it was enough to drive him crazy. "What now, Woman?"

Bulma was shaking in fright as she watched the enormous ball of energy gathering in the palm of his hand. His power always awed her, but it was terrifying when she knew that this time, he wasn't using it in a training game. He was gathering that energy with the intent to kill, and he didn't look like he had any qualms about it.

"Don't hurt them," she pleaded, "I'll see if I can fix that one. Just keep an eye on the others. I trust you, but I don't trust them."

With a little bit of a growl, Vegeta allowed the energy to dissipate and turned back to the androids. His tail unwound from his waist and flicked around in irritation as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, androids, look like your lives have been spared again."

Seventeen and Eighteen visibly relaxed when they saw the imminent threat had passed. They weren't sure what to make of the saiyan prince. He had threatened them a few times now, but he had never followed through. Either he was going to kill them eventually when his patience ran out or he really didn't want to kill them at all and was just looking for reasons not to. Whatever the case may be, they were thankful for another reprieve.

"Bring them down to my lab," Bulma said, her voice still shaking. She turned to go there herself, praying to Kami that she had made the right decision. Forcing herself to trust Vegeta's judgment, she led them down into her lab to start work on Sixteen.

_A/N: To clarify power levels: Goku and Vegeta are about the same, but Goku got the heart virus, so that obviously weakened him a lot in his fight with Android 19. Had it not been for that, he would have easily destroyed both 19 and 20. Vegeta was able to overpower 17 and 18 without ascending when they weren't fighting at their maximum potential because his base form is now about the equivalent of a trained super saiyan. At maximum, he could only defeat them by ascending to super saiyan. In terms of canon power levels, his super saiyan is now the equivalent of ascended super saiyan. Android 16 was more powerful than 17 and 18, which is why Vegeta had to power up more when he fought him. His power was probably a little below ultimate super saiyan without the bulk. Trunks is nowhere near this strong because he doesn't train like crazy like Vegeta and Goku, so his super saiyan is the same as it was in CU._

_Mirai Trunks exists because time travel created an alternate dimension. What happens in the "past" does not affect his timeline, so even though he wasn't born in this timeline, he still exists in his own timeline. It's the same as with the androids. They were destroyed in the present but he still had to go and destroy them in his own timeline. The timelines are independent of each other._

_And really? Only 11 reviews on that last chapter? Seriously, I write a freaking long chapter with lots of action and that's all I get... How disappointing. Review this one a lot to appease me. Go._

_Song: "Hate to Say I Told You So" by The Hives_


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

_Some say ya troubled boy  
Just because you like to destroy  
All the things that bring the idiots joy, well  
What's wrong with a little destruction?_

"You're not going to believe this," Yamcha muttered as he hung up the phone. The other warriors gathered in the living room of Roshi's house all looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell them what he talked about with Bulma. He took a deep breath and started, "Vegeta and the androids are at Capsule Corp—"

"What?" the others shouted as they rose to their feet and balled their hands into fists.

Yamcha sighed and slid his hand across his face. "You know how there were three of them? Vegeta practically destroyed one of them then brought them all to CC for Bulma to fix it back up and change its programming."

The angry shouts rose to a greater volume when they heard this explanation. Not only was Vegeta an arrogant jerk, he was also apparently completely off his rocker. Why would he want to repair the android he himself destroyed? It made no sense at all. What's worse, his stupidity was putting Bulma in danger as well.

Krillen ran over to the door and threw it open. "We have to get over there right now!"

The others, all agreeing, immediately followed the bald monk out of the house and blasted off into the sky heading west. They pushed themselves as fast as they could go, hoping they wouldn't get there too late and find the place wasted with no survivors.

Sixteen was laid out on one of Bulma's work tables with several computers hooked up to him giving readouts on the complex systems inside, mapping the circuitry. His head had been opened so she could remove his chip and reprogram it so he would no longer want to kill Goku. She figured it would be safer to leave everything else intact in case she would inadvertently disable him from functioning at all.

For the first few minutes that Bulma was working on the android, Vegeta paced around the lab restlessly while Seventeen and Eighteen stood off to the side unsure of what to do. They knew nothing about Sixteen's wiring so they couldn't be any help in repairing him and they didn't want to anger the saiyan and push his patience beyond its limits.

When Vegeta grew bored, he decided to go somewhere else, but he couldn't leave the androids alone with Bulma. They might be acting harmless now, but with someone clearly weaker, they might not hesitate to hurt or even kill her, which he couldn't allow.

"You, androids," he barked, "Come with me."

Seventeen and Eighteen exchanged a glance before following the saiyan prince out of the lab. Neither wanted to admit they feared his volatile temper and enormous power, so they kept their faces neutral and showed no signs of nervousness. Inside, Seventeen was raging about being the saiyan's captive when he had only recently earned his freedom from his creator. He probably wouldn't be allowed to leave now if he wanted to or do anything else out of line. Eighteen was more concerned about surviving while she was being watched by the saiyan. Maybe she could somehow prove to him that she could be trusted and he would leave her alone.

Vegeta led them outside into the back yard of the compound and stopped, his back still turned to them. His tail tightened around his waist as he turned his head so he could see them out of the corner of his eye. "Fight me, now."

Eighteen's eyebrows rose in surprise as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to her brother. She knew he was stronger than her and had a better chance of winning in a fight against the saiyan prince. "Go for it, Seventeen."

"Alright then," he said calmly as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He had been waiting for an opportunity to prove to himself that he had nothing to fear from this flesh and blood creature. Maybe his sister was afraid, but he wasn't going to be anymore. "Let's see what you've got, saiyan." He sank into a fighting stance and waited for Vegeta to make the first move.

Vegeta shook his head. "Both of you."

"Both of us?" Seventeen asked incredulously, "You can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious!" Vegeta snapped. His clenched his fists and lashed his tail angrily behind him as he turned his body to face the two androids.

Seventeen shrugged and looked over at his sister. "Well, you heard him, sis." He smiled as he focused on the short saiyan standing a few feet away. He hadn't intended to kill the saiyan before, but now it might be the only way to get away so he could have fun again. And he wasn't entirely opposed to killing anyway. With Eighteen's help, loss was not an option.

Eighteen tried to show the same level of confidence as her brother. Normally, she would be cool as a cucumber going into a fight, but this one was different. She fought Vegeta and lost not too long ago, the bitter taste of defeat still fresh in her mouth. One foot slid out to widen her stance as she raised her arms defensively and set her eyes on the arrogant saiyan.

Then Seventeen rushed forward, but he swung his fist through an afterimage of Vegeta, only to have his body driven into the ground as the prince's elbow struck him between his shoulder blades. In an instant, Eighteen was also thrown to the ground next to him. Seventeen spat out some blood and jumped back to his feet, telling himself that was a lucky shot.

Trunks, flying with the other warriors, was lost in thought as he made his way toward Capsule Corp. His father had taken the androids there for his mother to actually _repair_ one of the monsters he sought to destroy! He simply couldn't come up with any reason for such absurdity. Sure, things were different in this timeline, but that didn't mean the androids were going to become their friends or anything. So why didn't Vegeta just kill them already? He had found out the hard way he was still no match for them, so there was no chance of him being the one to destroy them once and for all. And right now, Goku was down for the count. Things were getting too complicated and he didn't know what he could do about it.

When Capsule Corp finally came into view, he was shocked to see Vegeta fighting both of the androids in the back yard. Fear reared its ugly head when he thought he was going to witness his father's death at their hands, but as he drew closer, he realized Vegeta was actually holding his own against them. Again he shook his head, wondering what was preventing him from killing them. It looked like he was toying with them. Didn't he know they had endless sources of energy and needed to finish them off before he started tiring? He looked around and saw all the others were staring at the fight down below as well.

Vegeta swung Eighteen around by her leg and released her just in time to send her crashing into Seventeen who was charging toward them in a blind rage. He smirked as both androids crumpled and fell to the ground once more. He was impressed with their ability to keep getting back up and going for more even though they were clearly outclassed. They were mostly undamaged physically, but he could tell mentally they were falling to shambles. The boy, who had been so confident at the beginning, was flying off the handle. He wondered how a machine could give in to emotions at all, but remembered they were unique somehow. Partially human.

Eighteen was the first to get back to her feet. She knit her brows and glared at the saiyan, wanting more than anything to smack the smirk off his face. She started gathering energy in both hands, waiting for the right moment to strike. She saw Seventeen get up behind her and rush forward again, only to be knocked aside as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll. Seeing an opening in Vegeta's defense, she released her attacks and watched with satisfaction as they appeared to hit their target and explode in a massive fireball.

"That takes care of that," Seventeen muttered as he dusted himself off.

Eighteen's eyes shifted from her brother back to where the saiyan had stood proudly not a minute earlier. The smoke and dust was clearing, giving her the perfect view of… the saiyan standing there proudly. And his trademark smirk was bigger than usual as he smugly glanced over at his mechanical opponents. He crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled to himself, shaking his head, when he saw their dumbstruck expressions.

"You'll have to do better than that, androids," he quipped condescendingly. That attack knocked the breath out of him, but he wasn't going to let on that it took him by surprise.

Eighteen's lip curled into a sneer as she clenched her fists at her sides. "I hate you!" she shouted, voice full of venom. No one made her and her brother look like fools, especially not a cocky prince of a has-been race. She raised her hands, balls of pink energy glowing in her palms, and started throwing them in an endless barrage at the saiyan, knowing he wouldn't be able to dodge them all. She hadn't been trying her hardest before, but she definitely wasn't pulling punches anymore. She wanted him dead.

"Father!" Trunks yelled in horror as he sped down to make sure Vegeta was unharmed. The pink explosion only grew larger and larger as Eighteen – and now Seventeen – sent blast after blast in an all-out attempt to murder the saiyan prince. If they didn't stop soon the growing shockwaves would level the whole city. The ground shook and the air was charged with energy around the explosion. As he flew, Trunks ascended to super saiyan, raising his power level as high as he could before slamming his feet into the side of Seventeen's head, knocking him over. In a flash, Trunks materialized behind Eighteen and swept her feet out from under her before she could react to his sudden presence.

He was about to turn around and rush into the cloud of smoke when he heard a ferocious growling coming from within. A second later, he was flat on his back looking into the teal eyes of Vegeta that were burning with anger. "You will regret interfering with my fight, boy," he spat. His foot, which had been resting on Trunks' chest, started applying pressure until the boy started howling in pain as he felt his sternum cracking.

"That's enough, Vegeta," came a deep, stern voice. The prince looked up to see the tall Namekian shaking his head, giving him a silent command to stop his assault.

"No one tells me what to do," Vegeta snarled. Nevertheless, he removed his foot from his son's chest and instead kicked him away with a sneer of disgust at his weakness.

All through this, the androids looked on with mild amusement. They thoroughly enjoyed Vegeta's behavior when it wasn't directed toward them. Eighteen tucked her loose hair behind her ear and Seventeen wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth while their eyes followed Trunks falling not far from them where Vegeta kicked him. Then their cold eyes flicked back to Vegeta as they readied themselves for another round of fighting. Maybe they couldn't overpower him, but they could outlast him. Surely by now he had to be getting a _little_ tired.

Vegeta spit out a mouthful of blood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The fight had actually been getting challenging with both of the androids in on it. But now that Kakarrot's little hodgepodge pack was here, he lost interest in fighting. His tail dropped from around his waist and flicked agitatedly as he looked around at the gathered warriors, each holding an expression of confusion and apprehension. The weaklings.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed at them when his patience ran out. No one had explained what they came for and it didn't look like anyone was planning on it either.

Yamcha took a few tentative steps forward, clenching and unclenching his fists as he glared daggers at Vegeta. "What are we doing here? What the hell were you thinking bringing _them_," he gestured toward the androids, "here, where they could hurt Bulma?"

Vegeta scoffed and started walking toward the compound. "As if they could get by me." He waved his hand in the air in a gesture of dismissal. "But if you're that worried about them, by all means, fight them. Kill them. Whatever."

The front door slammed behind the prince, bringing the others back to reality. By offering to let them take the victory, he had given them the biggest insult. He knew they were powerless against the androids and right now only he had the strength to destroy them. The androids were almost as stunned as the others; one minute they were fighting a fierce battle (from their perspective) and the next he walked out. Again.

Inside, Vegeta stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before going down to Bulma's lab where she was still working on the third android. He leaped over the rail as usual and landed softly behind her. He noticed her jump slightly so he knew she was aware of his presence. He walked around the table Sixteen was laid out on and studied the bare wires running through the android's body. He could see Bulma had already fixed much of the damage he did.

Bulma briefly glanced up at him before she went back to rewiring the broken android. "You know, the technology in this android is amazing. I'm actually glad you brought it for me to see, Vegeta, thanks," she said softly, casting him a small smile.

He shrugged and walked over to the computer where the android's chip was and picked it up, turning it over in his hand to inspect it. Strange how the tiny thing contained a complete artificial personality and intelligence. "You've reprogrammed this?"

"Yep. That was actually the easiest part," the blue-haired scientist said as she carefully connected two wires. "By the way, where are the other two?"

Vegeta shook his head and chuckled at her complete lack of fear. Apparently, impressing her with lots of technology and letting her dig into it was enough to make her forget any possible danger. "Outside. Playing with the weaklings, I suppose."

Bulma dropped the pair of pliers she was holding and stared at him open-mouthed as her brain worked to form words. "Vegeta!" she screeched, "How could you leave them to fight the androids? You know they're not strong enough, they could die!"

The saiyan winced at the piercing tone of her voice but otherwise showed no reaction to her accusation. When she had finished her rant, he shrugged and walked over to another work table to inspect what other projects she was working on earlier. He didn't care much about the other fighters, and anyway he could still feel their ki signatures and none of them was raised to indicate the start of a fight. Worrying about their safety was not on his to-do list.

Hearing her trying to calm herself, Vegeta turned his head so she could see his profile and reassured her, "Woman, they are not fighting. They're standing around like the fools they are."

"Are you sure?" she sighed.

He grunted as he turned his attention back to the blueprints laid out on the table in front of him. His scanned the plans quickly, noting a few problems with the design. He considered telling her about them but decided she would figure them out in her own time. He knew how proud she was – her pride could rival his own – so he knew better than to criticize her work without her asking for his input. Having his ears bleed from her screaming was not enjoyable.

Bulma frowned before picking the pliers up and going back to work. "Please promise me you'll help them if they do start fighting."

Vegeta snorted but nodded once. As much as he hated it, he knew that those weaklings were a part of the woman's pack. Therefore, they were, in a sense, his pack, so it was his duty to protect them when they were in over their heads. He felt no attachment to them, but he would never hear the end of it if he let anything bad happen to them if he could help it. And so he made sure at least some of his attention was always devoted to monitoring their ki.

He was growing bored again when Bulma's phone rang. He glared at the noisy device but made no move to answer it. If there was one piece of technology on this planet he hated, it was the telephone. He silently cursed whoever invented it when it continued ringing. His eyes moved over to Bulma, but she was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice the obnoxious sound.

"Woman!" he shouted, startling her. He smirked when he saw her jump and cast a scowl his way. "Answer the damn phone."

"Phone?" she asked, only to be interrupted by another ring. "Oh! Sorry, 'Geta."

He watched her run across the lab and pick the phone up off the hook, sighing with relief when the ringing stopped. Such a shrill sound should not be allowed to exist, in his opinion. He didn't listen to her conversation, but instead went over to the android and again examined the complex circuitry. He saw one repair Bulma made that was obviously incorrect. Checking over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't looking, he disconnected some wires and reattached them where they were supposed to go.

He heard another beeping and growled angrily, turning to blast the machine responsible for the sound. Unfortunately, Bulma was standing in front of it, waiting for it to spit out a piece of paper for her to look at. Figuring the lab was a noisy place to be, he decided to relocate.

Halfway up the stairs he was stopped when Bulma called his name. He looked back down at her and saw that she was staring at the paper as if it had come to life. Her hands were shaking and she stuttered a little before swallowing and directing her gaze up to him. "D-do you recognize this?" She held the paper up for him to take.

Vegeta hopped over the rail again and snatched the paper out of her hand before holding it up to see. One eyebrow raised slowly, but otherwise he seemed unfazed by the strange picture. Of course he recognized the object in the picture. He never forgot anything. It was the time capsule the lavender-haired boy traveled in. But it looked old, decrepit. He nodded as he shoved it back in her outstretched hand. "What of it?"

Bulma sighed as she looked at the picture again. "Some guy just called and said he found this in the middle of nowhere. Since it looks pretty much abandoned, he was wondering if he could have it, and since it has the CC logo he called here. I told him we'd look at it first. That kid's not back, is he?"

"He is," Vegeta responded, "But he hasn't been back long." Only long enough to get in my way twice, he added mentally.

"Oh. Maybe he just forgot to capsulate the time machine. Though that still doesn't explain why it looks like it's been there for years," Bulma reasoned with a shrug. She folded the paper up and put it in her pocket to show him later if she got the chance. "Well, I guess I can go check it out in any case."

"Why don't you just ask the boy if it's his?" Vegeta asked nonchalantly as he started back up the stairs.

Bulma's eyebrows raised in surprise at his simple suggestion. How did he expect her to ask if she had no idea where the kid was? Then it occurred to her that, if the others were outside with the androids, and Vegeta said he was back, then most likely he was out there too. That certainly solved some problems rather easily. She laughed at herself as she nodded and followed the prince upstairs and outside to where the androids were standing casually with a circle of nervous warriors watching them warily nearby.

"Hey, future boy!" Bulma called as she waved at the lavender-haired youth. "I need you to look at something." She pulled the paper out of her pocket and held it up to get his attention.

Trunks blushed a little at the nickname his young mother gave him. He realized she still didn't know his name or how he was related to her. He didn't know if there was any point in explaining it, since Vegeta didn't seem to believe he could be his son. Maybe she wouldn't accept the fact that in his timeline, she had a son with the stubborn alien. He didn't even know if in this timeline they were at all interested in each other. If they weren't, knowing them, it would be better not to bring up their short affair that resulted in his conception.

He walked over to the blue-haired woman and accepted the paper she offered him. As he stared at the picture, an expression of bewilderment crossed his face. There was no mistaking it: this was a picture of his very own time machine, but he could hardly recognize it for all the damage done to it. Still, he would know that machine anywhere. It was a one-of-a-kind invention. And he had it in its capsule safely in his pocket. Just to prove it to himself, he pulled it out and popped the capsule open, revealing a brand new time machine in perfect condition. Its shiny exterior caught the bright rays of the sun and glinted as if to prove it was well cared for unlike the machine in the picture.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked in a low voice.

Bulma cocked her head at his reaction and put her hands on her hips. He looked spooked, which was probably not a good thing. Someone who was only known as a bearer of bad news should not look so upset over something so strange. It was discomforting. "A guy just called me and faxed me this photo. He said he found it and wanted to know if it was ours and if he could keep it. He didn't know what it was though. I told him I'd go check it out."

Trunks knit his brows as he continued analyzing the picture. The more he studied it the more sure he was that it was an exact replica of his own machine. But that should have been impossible. His mother only managed to make one, and he had it. Finally, he looked back up at her and handed the photo back. "Let me come with you, Mot—Bulma."

She raised an eyebrow at his near slip-up but didn't mention it. Bulma wasn't the only one who noticed it. A certain saiyan who was standing nearby whipped his head around to see the young man who was now trying to hide his face from his parents' scrutiny. He mumbled something incoherent and went over to the z-fighters to tell them what was going on.

"Alright then," Bulma announced cheerfully as she pulled a capsule out of her pocket and dropped it on the ground. "Let's go see what this thing is."

Bulma climbed into the driver's seat of the small jet and waited for Trunks to get in the passenger side. A minute later, they were gone, the only sign of their departure a tiny sparkling dot far off in the sky.

"I thought she was busy repairing Sixteen," Seventeen said as he adjusted the scarf around his neck. It was rather tattered after the fight with Vegeta, but unlike his sister, he wasn't too concerned with the condition of his clothes.

"Hn," Vegeta grunted in the affirmative as he went to go back inside. It was late afternoon and he hadn't eaten since that morning. Needless to say, he was getting hungry and wanted to go get some food.

Eighteen brushed her hair back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Has she finished?"

"No."

"Why not?" she demanded. "We're not going to wait forever, you know. Hurry up and fix him so we can leave."

Vegeta turned to her when he reached the front door, a scowl on his face. "You're free to leave at any time, android. The other one will be repaired soon. Now shut up." His tail flicked in irritation a few times before he turned and went inside, intent on eating as much food as he could find in the compound.

Eighteen growled with frustration and barely restrained herself from throwing an energy ball after the departing saiyan. She hated the way he brushed her aside as if she were nothing to him. No threat at all, nothing to be respected.

"We could go get that blue-haired woman to finish the job," Seventeen suggested calmly.

Eighteen considered this option when a shaky voice interrupted her thoughts. "No, please, just wait. Bulma will be back soon, you don't have to hunt her down." Eighteen's eyes shifted over to a short, bald man who was trying hard to stand up with confidence, but the fear in his eyes was painfully obvious. 'Cute,' she thought, 'how someone so powerless would care enough about someone else to try persuading us not to do what we want.'

Krillen looked up at the blonde android, a mixture of terror and curiosity running through his head. He knew what Trunks said about these androids: they're monsters, the destroyers of Earth in the future, heartless, cold, powerful, evil. But he couldn't help but wonder if they were really all that bad. The girl looked so harmless. Sure she seemed to have a bit of a temper, maybe some pride issues, and she was insanely strong, but was she evil? Maybe she just didn't know what was right and wrong because she wasn't created to know better than to follow her programming. Did that mean she was beyond redemption? He liked to think not.

Eighteen chuckled as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry," she told him, "We won't hurt her. We just want Sixteen back so we can go have some fun." She broke into more amused laughter at the furious blush flaming across his cheeks and his attempts to stutter out an intelligible response.

Seventeen laughed with her as they took off into the air in the same direction Bulma had gone in her jet. They really were eager to have Sixteen back. They were still curious about what he was capable of. That was, after all, the reason they decided to activate him in the first place.

"Should we stop them?" Krillen asked quietly.

The others looked at him as if he had grown a second head. They didn't really hear his question, still in shock after seeing the android kiss their friend's cheek. What bizarre behavior. They weren't physically terrorizing anyone yet, but they were screwing with them mentally.

Piccolo shook his head and looked in the direction the androids went. His mouth turned downward into a frown when he was unable to see them anymore. "We probably should. Who knows what trouble they'll cause if left unchecked."

"As if we could do anything to stop them," Yamcha muttered under his breath. He didn't notice Piccolo turning his way with a chastising glare as he reluctantly raised his ki and took off after the androids.

Tien went after him, thinking to himself sardonically how the day just kept getting better and better. It had been hours since the original confrontation with the first two androids, and now they were chasing the others even though they had no hope of defeating them if it came to a fight. And the only being with the strength to destroy them was, much to his chagrin, Vegeta. He glared at the ground below as he flew, wishing that things would improve soon.

"Hey, sis!" Seventeen called over the wind, "Watch this!"

Eighteen cocked an eyebrow as her twin brother formed orbs of pink energy in his hands and started raining them down on the ground below. The explosions weren't big, but they riddled the land below with pockmarks and fires. It was a densely wooded area, so probably it would turn into a forest fire if left to burn. She smiled slightly. He was always so reckless. Really, he was the reason they ran away and… she shook her head.

"You're such an idiot," she laughed.

He shrugged and grinned at her. "I just like to have fun. C'mon, try it!"

They were now flying over the ocean. The endless blue expanse below them was peaceful and the scent of salt was thick in the air. Eighteen shook her head and twisted over so she was flying on her back with her arms crossed behind her head.

"Aw, you're no fun!" Seventeen said. Then he gathered a larger ball of energy and pitched it into the ocean. There was no big explosion, but a moment later a massive wave started growing as the water moved away from the point of impact where the energy hit the ocean floor. Seventeen watched with glee as the wave grew higher and higher as it moved, knowing it would be a tidal wave by the time it reached land. "Hope the humans are wearing their raincoats!"

Eighteen rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. He was so childish sometimes it was ridiculous. Give him infinite power and he used it for his own amusement. He wasn't interested in global domination or anything like that, he just wanted to blow things up. Typical boy.

"Look at this mess!" Piccolo groaned when they found the forest fire. The only thing that could have caused the extensive damage stretching out before them was the androids who were far ahead of them. He smacked his forehead with his hand and lowered himself to the ground to stop the fire before it spread.

Tien, Krillen, and Yamcha followed suit, using their ki to create barriers that smothered the flames. The destruction stretched on for miles, so it was going to take them quite a while to put all the fires out. They were irritated with the androids for their senseless destruction, but they had to at least be thankful that there were no human victims in the area. They could stand some dead trees and animals if it meant the androids were thus far refraining from murdering thousands.

Cleaning up after the androids was more annoying than anything. They might not be finding decimated cities – yet – but it was irritating that the androids so casually destroyed the planet like this. Was it going to be like this everywhere they went before they were stopped? The z-fighters hoped not. They were being distracted from their real objective by the need to stop more damage from occurring in the androids' wake. Either Dr. Gero was crazy enough to create machines of indiscriminate destruction or they were acting on their own free will. If either was the case, they were dangerous rogues that needed to be apprehended soon.

_A/N: Are the androids too weak? Maybe, but then in canon they were supposed to be these all-powerful beings that destroyed the world, but they were relatively small threats compared to Cell. So I guess I'm using that to my advantage. The androids aren't that great. They're necessary for the movement of the plot but not the actual big bad guys. I guess I also downplay the fights in this part because the whole story is more a bildungsroman than an action story. The fights are important, but I'm more interested in the characters' thought processes and development. Finding a good balance in this part is difficult, so bear with me._

_Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even the negative ones. I love them. :)_

_Song: "The Fallen" by Franz Ferdinand_


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

_Hush little baby don't say a word  
And never mind that noise you heard  
It's just the beast under your bed  
In your closet, in your head_

An ear-piercing shriek echoed through the formerly peaceful wilderness. From the woods a flock of birds rose from the trees, disturbed by the sudden noise. Only silence followed for what could have dragged on for minutes or hours; no one was around to gauge the time passing as the stillness of the countryside again laid like a blanket over the grassy hills and forests.

"W-what is that t-thing?" Bulma whimpered miserably, peeking out from behind Trunks at the gruesome remains of a hideous creature. Or at least, the shed skin of the creature in question. It was enormous, ugly, and it was giving her the creeps.

Trunks shook his head in wonder as he slowly approached the brown abomination. It bore no resemblance to any creature he could imagine. The closest thing he could compare it to was a monstrous locust, but that was by a stretch of the imagination. Brows knit together, he stepped closer until he was close enough to touch it, though he felt no inclination to do so. Resisting his gag reflex, he reached into the skin, only to pull his hand back with a look of utter disgust as pink goo dripped from his fingers.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat before telling Bulma, "It's fresh. Whatever this thing is, it can't be far away." He shook his hand, trying to get the remainder of the slime off.

The corner of Bulma's eye twitched as she stared blankly at the young man. "It's somewhere around here? Close?" Her voice came out in a cracked whisper.

Trunks nodded solemnly as he looked at the skin again. He had no desire to find out what sort of creature shed something like that, but he had a feeling it was somehow linked to the mysterious replica of his time machine and the strange egg-like thing that was inside.

"Well then," Bulma's weak voice broke him out of his reverie, "I think it's time we get going, don't you think?" She was wringing her shaking hands as she made a wide circle around the horrible _thing_ as she hastily retreated back to her jet. She didn't even check to make sure Trunks was following. All she cared about was putting as much distance between herself and that monster as quickly as possible.

Bulma was almost to her jet when two figures dropped out of the sky in front of her, blocking her path. She barely had time to stop in her tracks before crashing into them. Her mind was still set on escaping the area as she tried to sidestep whoever was in her way.

"Excuse me, but aren't you supposed to be fixing Sixteen?" came the cold, smooth voice of a young man. That emotionless voice finally made Bulma able to focus on her surroundings. Immediately she recognized the two people in front of her. The androids. What were they doing here? And why wasn't anyone else around? Sweat started to bead on her brow as she took a step back away from them.

"I- I will fix him," she started but her words died in her throat at the glare they gave her.

Eighteen frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Correction: You will fix him _now_." The blonde android took a step toward the blue-haired woman, a menacing look in her pale blue eyes, so devoid of life.

"Get away from my mother!" Trunks screamed when he saw who she was talking to. He ran toward the two androids, hands balled into fists in front of him. He didn't know what they had come here for, but the last thing he would ever do was let them harm his mother, whether or not it was in his timeline or this one. With a howl of rage and a flare of ki he ascended to super saiyan as he ran, ready for battle.

Seventeen turned on his heel to meet the boy racing toward him and his sister with a smirk on his thin lips. "You just can't get enough pain, can you?" His hand darted up to catch the demi-saiyan's fist when it was mere centimeters from his face.

Trunks' eyes widened in surprise at the ease with which Seventeen stopped his attack but quickly recovered, swinging his other fist, only to have it caught in the android's free hand. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his gut as the air was forced out of his lungs. Looking down, he saw the android's knee buried in his stomach. He was shoved away roughly as he gasped for air, his arms wrapping protectively around his abdomen.

Seventeen gave a short laugh and turned to his sister. "Doesn't take much to take this one out. He's no fun."

Eighteen rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever, let's just take this one and go," she said, gesturing toward Bulma.

Realizing what they were going to do, Bulma shook her head and waved her hands in front of her defensively. "No, no, no, no, no, no, really, you don't need to take me anywhere. I'm just going to get right back in my jet and go straight back to Capsule Corp and finish fixing your friend and you can be on your merry way."

"If we take you, we'll get there much faster," Seventeen said matter-of-factly. He watched with amusement as the supposed genius worked to find words to persuade them not to forcibly take her back to the compound.

Bulma really was having a hard time getting her brain to work. In the first place, she was still completely freaked out about the creature thing running around the area somewhere. Second of all, she had tried and was unable to wrap her mind around the lavender-haired boy yelling at the androids to leave his mother alone when he attacked. And _now_, these crazy androids wanted to just pick her up and carry her back to the compound? _No thank you!_

She laughed nervously and took a couple more steps back. "Well, how about this then? I let you drive my jet? That would be fun, right?"

Eighteen smacked her forehead with her hand while Seventeen's calm expression lit up with barely contained excitement. This woman was speaking his language. Stealing a car to drive had been fun, sure, but a jet? That would be ten times better.

He smiled as he casually rested his hands on his hips and walked around the jet, opened the door on the driver's side, and hopped in. Bulma was only slightly relieved that she wasn't going to be carried off by the androids like some kind of prisoner. Not knowing if the android even knew how to drive made her nervous as she hesitantly made her way over to the jet and climbed into the back, allowing Eighteen to have the passenger seat. Seventeen fired up the engine and was preparing to take off when she remembered they were missing a passenger.

"Wait!" she called out softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "We can't leave without Trunks."

Seventeen looked at the woman in the rearview mirror and shrugged nonchalantly. He figured he could wait to get the weak boy in the jet. He really didn't care, so long as he got to drive. He hands moved restlessly across the controls, eager to try them out but nodded his assent to let Trunks come with them.

Bulma got out of the jet and ran over to Trunks, who managed to push himself to his knees. She bent over and helped him to his feet and supported him as they walked over to the jet. He gave her a wary look before climbing in, certain this was a bad idea.

She got in after him and barely had the door closed when Seventeen lifted off, the torque throwing her to the back of the jet. She grunted in pain when her body struck against the back and fell to the floor with a soft thud. "Damnit, you could have warned me you were going to do that," she grumbled angrily.

If Seventeen heard her griping, he didn't acknowledge it. He was much too focused on testing the capabilities of the little jet, which made it accelerate rapidly, stop almost instantly, rock from side to side, nosedive, climb back up ninety degrees, and spiral through the air. The human and demi-saiyan on board were both feeling nauseous by the time they landed – roughly – in front of the Capsule Corp compound.

"That was… possibly the worst flight I've ever had," Bulma muttered as she stumbled dizzily out of the small plane, hands holding her head to try to make the world stop spinning.

"Hey, I heard that," Seventeen said, smiling slyly. Of course he made the flight unbearably uncomfortable for his purely organic passengers. It just made the trip all the more fun for him knowing they were about to vomit while he was having the time of his life.

Bulma slapped her hand over her mouth and scurried off to the front door of the compound, not wanting to evoke the wrath of the androids. Behind her they laughed at her discomfort and fear and swaggered up to the door to let themselves in. They were curious to see how Sixteen was progressing.

"They're not here," Piccolo grumbled as the z-fighters looked around the area where Bulma and Trunks found the old time machine. They felt his ki spike earlier, probably to fight the androids, but they were nowhere in sight now. Bulma's jet was also missing. The warriors were getting frustrated with the frequent wild goose chases they were led on since the androids were released from Dr. Gero's laboratory.

Yamcha scratched his head as he thought about where they might have gone. "You know, I think I did see a plane heading back in the direction of Capsule Corp from this general direction. But it wasn't driving like I've ever seen Bulma drive. I mean, she's crazy, but that was pure insanity."

Krillen sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You know, I'm starting to think these androids aren't really going to do anything too bad. They just seem like a couple harmless, albeit rebellious, teenagers."

"Maybe, but do you really want to take any chances?" Piccolo asked.

The bald monk grinned nervously before shaking his head. Of course he wasn't willing to gamble the earth's prolonged existence on a silly old feeling he had, but he just couldn't help but think the androids were less sadistic than they had been led to believe and that they wanted, as they said, fun, not total destruction of the planet and its population. Besides, would a totally evil android who just happened to be a beautiful blonde woman kiss him on the cheek?

"Alright then, I guess we should get back to Capsule Corp," Yamcha stated. He flared his ki and lifted off the ground and waited for the others to join him before taking off back the way they had come only minutes earlier.

"Hey, guys," Tien said as they flew, "I'm going to head back to Roshi's and check up on Goku. Maybe Chiaotzu and I will head over later." The others bid him farewell as he branched off away from their trajectory and headed toward the tiny island where the ailing saiyan was.

Vegeta stretched and laid out on the couch in the living room of the compound. So far he had had an interesting day. Defeated one inferior android, fought the others, decided to let them live, went to Kakarrot's, fought the androids again, almost killed one, took them back to the compound, got one repaired, fought the others… yes, it was a fight-filled day. In a word: satisfying. He smirked to himself and closed his eyes, willing himself to get some rest since his stomach was now full and he had no worries about the androids anymore.

But then he heard the front door slam shut followed by the hurried footsteps of his woman and then two pairs of feet walking close behind her. Judging by the sound of the steps, they were confident and casual, not hurried like Bulma. And based on the fact that he couldn't sense any ki, he knew that the footsteps belonged to the androids. One eyebrow quirked up as he wondered why they would be following Bulma around.

He heard her move on down the hall and stop after a while, then the sound of a metal door opening, and steps receding down a stairway. Ah, yes, her laboratory. The androids were probably eager to see how their large companion was holding up, so they were following his blue-haired genius into her lab to check up on him. Vegeta wondered if he should be concerned about her being alone with them, but he couldn't bring himself to worry about them. They were inferior to him, and they knew it. Therefore, he could trust them to leave her alone, if for no other reason than being afraid of him.

Vegeta settled himself back into the cushions of the couch contentedly and exhaled slowly. He wasn't worn out from his numerous fights, but he definitely did want rest. He hadn't been sleeping well for the past few weeks leading up to this day, so he was rather tired to begin with. Now, finally, he could rest easy again. At least, as easy as he ever rested when he wasn't plagued with nightmarish flashbacks in his sleep. He closed his eyes and soon drifted into sleep.

Bulma tried to hide the nervous trembling of her fingers as she worked on rewiring the broken android with the other two watching closely. She sighed every so often when she realized she had been holding her breath, which wasn't helping her anxiety any. Tiring of her nervousness, she forced herself to focus completely on her work and block out the fact that Seventeen and Eighteen were standing nearby, making sure she wasn't inadvertently damaging the huge android worse.

The twin androids were silent as they observed the blue-haired woman working on Sixteen. Though they would never admit it to anyone, even each other, they were both impressed with her technological and mechanical skills. The only person they had ever known to have such a high caliber of intelligence was their own creator, and he was dead now. Judging from what they had seen so far, this woman could not only fix their comrade, but improve his design too.

After twenty minutes Bulma slammed her pliers down on the table next to Sixteen and scowled at the two androids standing opposite her. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore them; their presence was too intimidating and unnerving for her to work at her full capabilities. "Alright guys," she said firmly, "You're really making me uncomfortable. If you want your buddy here back in working order soon, you'll stop watching every move I make. Go watch some TV or something." She put her hands on her hips and gave the androids her best glare as she waited for them to move out of her lab and let her get back to work.

Seventeen and Eighteen exchanged glances before casually shrugging and strolling over to the stairs. It didn't seem as though she had any intention of ruining Sixteen's functioning, so they decided they could trust her enough to repair him in their absence.

Eighteen had another thought before she was out of the lab though. "Hey you," she called back down the stairs, "Where can I get new clothes around here?"

Bulma's eyes snapped up to the vain android with a look of confusion written across her face. She was surprised that an android would be so concerned with her appearance. She _had_ noticed Vegeta had done quite a number on the android's outfit, but she didn't expect the android to actually care. She picked up the pliers she had slammed down a moment ago and fidgeted with them while she thought about a good place for an android to get new clothes. Somewhere where she wouldn't cause too much chaos.

"There's a strip mall not too far from here. A couple miles north. There's some really nice shops there. If you need it, I can give you some money for a new outfit."

Eighteen seemed to consider that for a minute before she shook her head and brushed her hair back behind her ear. "I don't need money." Without another word, she left and closed the door behind her, leaving Bulma alone in the lab with only a silent, broken android for company. She didn't want to know why the android didn't need money. She doubted she had any of her own. Instead of fussing over it she decided to not think about it at all.

After an hour of working on Sixteen, Bulma was starting to cross wires and make silly mistakes. She was tired and doing such a difficult task was starting to affect her concentration. Slamming her wrench down on the android's chest, she mentally chided herself for letting her focus slip so much. She knew it would be impossible to continue working. When she looked up at the clock on the wall she gasped and slapped her hand against her forehead.

"It's after ten?" she groaned miserably. "When did that happen?"

Receiving no answer from her empty lab, Bulma slowly made her way upstairs and down the hall to the living room. She heard the TV and went in only to find Seventeen sitting in a recliner flipping through the channels too fast to see what was on any of them and Vegeta sleeping on the couch. There was a sight she never thought she'd see.

Seventeen didn't look up when he heard the blue-haired woman come into the room. He was too engrossed in exploring the myriad channels available at the compound. Vegeta was out like a light as he had been for quite some time. Even the noise of the TV wasn't enough to wake him out of his usually light sleep. Bulma walked over to him and waved her hand in front of his face to see if he really was as far gone as he looked.

The saiyan's hand shot up and gripped her wrist painfully tight, eliciting a squeal of surprise and pain from the woman. She tried pulling away but his grip wouldn't let up, instead tightening the more she fought it. She should have known something like this would happen.

"Vegeta!" she screamed, "Vegeta, let go of me!"

His eyes snapped open when he heard Bulma screaming his name and immediately let go of her wrist. He sat up and raised an eyebrow expectantly as he waited for an explanation as to why she would do something so stupid.

Bulma narrowed her eyes and put held her wrist in her other hand protectively. "Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault you overreacted."

Vegeta rolled his eyes before answering, "You know what happens when you bother me when I'm sleeping, Woman."

"Whatever," Bulma grumbled as she tried to snatch the remote control out of the android's hand only to have it held out of reach as the channels continued changing. She glared at the smirking android and held out her hand for the control as if he were a child that would be intimidated into giving it up.

When he didn't hand over the remote control, Bulma stomped her foot and growled in irritation. "Damnit, give me that!"

Somewhat hesitantly, Seventeen complied and handed the remote over to Bulma who swiped it out of his hand with an air of victory. She turned to the TV and started flipping through channels until she reached a news station and started watching, going over to sit next to Vegeta on the couch.

She gasped when she saw the news story that was airing: something about strange occurrences in Gingertown. People were missing and only clothes were left in the streets. It was impossible to imagine how an entire city with a population in the thousands could go missing. Then she remembered that Gingertown was not far from where the time machine was found alone with that hideously disgusting skin of some unidentifiable creature from hell.

"Vegeta," she whispered, "That's near where the old time capsule was. I'm not sure, but I'll bet there's some kind of connection between that and whatever's going on there."

In response, he only grunted his understanding of her suspicions. It didn't take a genius to know that an entire city disappearing without a trace was out of the ordinary. And knowing there was a time machine nearby only made the disappearance more suspicious. Still, if the time machine was as old as it looked, then why would anything strange just now be going on near it? He didn't voice his question, instead continued watching the news with veiled interest.

When the news report was over, Vegeta stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He was still tired and figured it was safe to go to bed. Whatever monster was lurking the streets of a faraway city could wait until tomorrow for him to defeat it. And the androids were barely able to be considered threatening, so he wasn't worried. He grabbed the remote out of Bulma's hand and turned the television off, wrapped his tail around her waist to pull her to her feet, and led her out of the living room and upstairs to her bedroom.

Bulma smiled at him sleepily as she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him close to her. She was having trouble staying awake, but she was so happy that he was still with her she wouldn't mind staying awake for a while longer if she could be with him.

Vegeta allowed the weak little woman to pull him over, denying to himself that it was out of eagerness to be with her. She held onto him as she nuzzled into his chest and sighed contentedly. She was again surrounded by his heady scent, strong arms, and powerful demeanor. She never felt so safe in her life. Vegeta might not know it, but he was her protector with whom she fully trusted her life.

He pulled his chest armor off and dropped it on the floor next to the bed. Standing only in his blue bodysuit, he could feel the warmth of her breath on his chest. He raised his hand and gently ran his gloved fingers through her cerulean hair. Against all odds, here he was with the woman he intended to mate, having faced his potential demise, overcome it effortlessly, and returned to her with no worries about the future. He was invincible, after all.

"Sleep now, Woman," he grumbled softly when he saw her struggling to keep her eyes open. He wanted a little fun with her, but it could wait. He had the whole rest of his life to be with her.

Bulma nodded slowly and stood up to get changed into pajamas. It was strange, going to sleep when the androids she feared for three years were, at least temporarily, taking up residence in the compound. She walked to her closet and pulled her clothes off and slipped on a short silky chemise before going into her bathroom to brush her teeth and hair.

When she came out of her bathroom, she found Vegeta sitting on the end of her bed, tail flicking slowly behind him from side to side as if deep in thought. He had taken his gloves off but still had his boots and bodysuit on. The form-fitting suit allowed Bulma to take in his exceptional muscle tone as she eyed him up and down. She quietly padded over to the bed and sat down next to the silent saiyan and wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked when he turned to face her.

His mouth turned down into a frown as he looked away from her again before answering, "I could sense Kakarrot near Gingertown along with the Namekian and Frieza. But it's impossible. Frieza is dead, Kakarrot is sick, and the Namekian is not that strong." He growled deep in his chest and his tail thumped against the bed, bouncing Bulma a little.

"Gingertown?" she asked. "That's where the people were disappearing from!"

He nodded once, slowly, and ground his teeth. Subconsciously, he clenched his fists and beat his tail repeatedly against the bed. It just wasn't possible. The power he was feeling was incredible. It had to be ten times greater than the androids, which would put it on par with his own. He shook his head furiously and stood up abruptly, causing Bulma to fall over on the bed.

Bulma grumbled as she sat back up and glared at the prince's back. "Is it that bad?"

Vegeta's tail twitched in agitation a while before it wrapped tightly around his waist. He never answered Bulma before pulling his gloves and armor back on and walking out to her balcony and taking off into the air. He could sense some of the other, weaker warriors also heading toward Gingertown. He sneered at that, knowing they wouldn't have a hope of defeating whatever was lurking in the city.

The others, who had all gone back to Master Roshi's during the time Bulma had locked herself away in the lab to work on Sixteen, had also sensed the strange combination of familiar ki coming from Gingertown. And they had all seen the news reports that were talking about how the entire city, with a population of over 15,000, had completely vanished without a trace. Trunks filled them in on how the city was near where the old time capsule was as well as the shed skin of some horrible monster.

Piccolo, soon after hearing about the time machine and unknown creature, had gone to Kami's lookout for some unspecified business. Krillin had his idea of what Piccolo intended to do but kept it to himself after witnessing Piccolo's intense mood swing when asked what he meant to do by going to the Lookout. So it was just Trunks and Krillin heading toward Gingertown after they started sensing all the warriors in the city when all of them were located on Master Roshi's island or dead.

Gohan stayed behind with Tien and Yamcha to help defend Goku if the androids decided to come and try to fight him after all. They were all glued to the television awaiting more news from Gingertown, but every news station was either down or the cameras showed a deadly silent city from the ground. It was clear that something had attacked the newscasters as well as the city's population.

Up on Kami's Lookout, Piccolo finally convinced Kami that the best thing for the Earth was for them to fuse into one being so they would have the power to defeat whoever was causing havoc down below. They knew Vegeta had the power to destroy the androids if need be, but there was something bigger, stronger, and more evil that even the saiyan prince wouldn't have the power it would take to destroy. Thus, they fused and became the unnamed super Namek and immediately headed for Gingertown to confront the one responsible for thousands of deaths.

As Vegeta was heading toward the disturbance he suddenly felt two extremely high powers, but both of them were Piccolo's. His brows knit as he tried to figure out what was going on. How could there be two of the same ki, and why were they so high if they were the Namekian's? It made no sense and frustrated him to no end. He, who had worked tirelessly to achieve his great power, was nearly matched by the Namekian in less than a day.

"Who are you?" Piccolo demanded when he finally laid eyes on the tall, green creature.

The monster dropped a man he had been dragging along with him and grinned evilly at the Namekian. "Silly Piccolo, my secrets will not be unlocked so easily." He started to power up, creating a small crater around them and blowing away some of the nearby buildings.

Trunks and Krillin halted in their flight toward the city as Frieza's power soared. But it wasn't Frieza's anymore, now it felt like Vegeta's. Then Goku's. Thoroughly confused, they exchanged glances before resuming their flight at a faster speed.

The subsequent fight between Piccolo and the creature did not last long before Piccolo was caught in a binding hold and the monster stabbed him with the tip of his tail and started absorbing his flesh. Piccolo screamed and writhed in agony as he tried to break free from the unnamed monster's clutches, finally bashing his head into his face in a last ditch effort to escape. Unfortunately, his freedom came after a period long enough for his arm to have been almost entirely absorbed, leaving it weak and withered.

Vegeta growled when he sensed one of the power levels weakening. They both felt like the Namekian's, but he had a feeling the weakening one was the real Piccolo, though he still couldn't understand how he had increased his strength so suddenly and greatly. He sped up in order to get to the fight before it ended, though he shouldn't have been too concerned. Piccolo was able to break free and gain some information from the monster – who he found out was named Cell and created by Dr. Gero and traveled here from the future to absorb Seventeen and Eighteen – before Trunks and Krillin arrived on the scene and Cell fled.

Only a few minutes passed between Cell's departure and Vegeta's arrival. When Vegeta landed on the battle scene, he was already extremely agitated, which was not hard for the others to pick up on. He looked around at the obliterated city, tail twitching angrily behind him before he turned to the others with a furious scowl.

"What happened here, Namek?" he bit out.

Piccolo, not in the mood for the saiyan's attitude, considered not answering. He was already thoroughly irritated with himself for allowing Cell to get away after having the upper hand through most of the fight. What he didn't need was an angry saiyan getting on his case about his failure. He sighed and turned his back on Vegeta before replying.

"Another one of Dr. Gero's creations, an android, came from the future. His name is Cell and he wants to absorb androids 17 and 18 in order to achieve his ultimate potential. We must stop him before he has the opportunity to do so or we will not be able to defeat him."

"Stop him?" Vegeta scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why stop him? Let him absorb the androids. Then we won't have to worry about them misbehaving anymore. This Cell could hardly become _that_ much more powerful through absorbing those weaklings."

Piccolo rounded on the cocky prince, fists clenched at his sides and long fangs bared in a snarl. "You have no idea what kind of power he might obtain with the other androids! We cannot take the risk of letting him becoming too powerful to beat!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and took a few steps away from the others. He coiled his tail back around his waist and glanced at them over his shoulder. "Where did he go, Namek? If you want to stop him before he finds the androids, you should probably hunt him down."

"We don't know where he is. He escaped and masked his ki so we can't sense him," Krillin informed the prince. He could see Piccolo was reaching the end of his rope and Vegeta wasn't helping any.

"Fantastic," Vegeta said sarcastically. "I would think someone as _strong_ as you would be able to keep track of a pesky little android long enough to kill it, Namek."

"Father –"

Trunks was knocked to the ground before he could see the blow coming. He looked up at the angry expression on Vegeta's face and wondered momentarily if he was ever going to be able to protect himself from his father's wrath. So far he had been made into a fool numerous times at Vegeta's hands and it looked as though it was a pattern that was going to continue unless he got a lot stronger and faster in a very short period of time. He sighed and wiped the blood that was dripping from his nose as he slowly got up.

"You are _not_ my son," Vegeta snarled at the lavender-haired teenager.

"Look, we need to hurry up and find Cell before he takes any more innocent lives," Piccolo barked, bringing the others back to reality. "Let's split up and look for him. Hopefully one of us will be able to locate him before he can absorb any more people and gain more power. If you find him, raise your power level so the rest of us can come help." That said, Piccolo powered up and blasted off into the sky heading in the direction he thought he saw Cell go.

Vegeta scoffed and reluctantly took to the air in the opposite direction. He wasn't big on following orders, but he was curious about this new android who had the power to be a formidable opponent to test his strength against. He thought that perhaps he shouldn't underestimate its potential if it absorbs the other androids. If it was already strong enough to give the Namekian, who was undoubtedly on the same level as himself, a hard time, letting it become even stronger could have devastating consequences. Still, his saiyan desire for a challenge could not be quelled. He _needed_ a challenging opponent.

Piccolo knew that Cell would be unbeatable if he absorbed the androids. He was already incredibly strong, and if his strength would increase exponentially with each of them as his own had when he united with Kami, then there was no way any of them would compare to Cell. If they couldn't find Cell, their best option would be to destroy at least one of the androids so they couldn't both be absorbed and help Cell reach "perfection."

The sun was setting on Gingertown when Krillin and Trunks separated to search for Cell. Neither was eager to find the monstrous android, but they knew that they had to find him before he found the androids. So, with much anxiety, they took off in opposite directions to cover as much territory as possible. The plan was simple: Find Cell, raise power, wait for help, fight and kill the monster. Then, perhaps, peace would be restored to Earth. Hopefully.

Cell felt the ki of the warriors spreading out and knew that they were searching for him. He landed on the ground and suppressed his ki to a level comparable to an average human and started running to the nearest city where he could absorb more humans and increase his strength. It took many humans to make a significant difference in his power level, but as long as the z-fighters couldn't find him, he could take all the time he needed to feast on an entire city.

Bulma could hardly believe that Vegeta had just taken off like that. She was left alone in her room, wishing he would come back and at least give her a goodnight kiss or something. But she knew that wasn't going to happen, so with a sigh of defeat, she crawled into bed to get some sleep. It had been a very long, stressful day and she was glad it was over. The androids were… well, not defeated, but they didn't seem to be much of a threat to the planet in this timeline. If anything, they were just a couple of rebels without a cause who just wanted some fun.

In the morning she could finish fixing Sixteen and send the three androids on their merry way to go do whatever androids do that doesn't involve killing people. As she stared at the dark ceiling she wondered if androids slept. If so, she should probably be a good hostess and offer them a guestroom if they were staying at the compound that night.

Giggling to herself, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to get up. She never would have guessed that morning that by nighttime she would have the androids in her home, be fixing one, and acting as if they were just regular guests, not machines with the capability of destroying the planet and purging it of sentient life. She shook her head as she stood and walked across the room to the door. Leave it to Vegeta to completely surprise her and let them live even though he was perfectly able to destroy them. Of all times to decide not to be ruthless…

She was heading downstairs when she began to worry about what was going on in Gingertown. Vegeta seemed pretty distressed about whatever it was. He didn't explain much of anything before he left. She hoped there wasn't a greater danger coming their way that they hadn't known about. Trunks just told them about the two androids – Seventeen and Eighteen – and she knew where they were. What else could be out there? Granted, there was that monster thing that they found near an exact duplicate of Trunks' time machine. It was all so strange.

"Oh, Vegeta," she muttered to herself, "If something is wrong, please, please make it right. I know you have the power to do it."

Once downstairs, Bulma made her way into the living room only to find Seventeen still sitting in front of the television once again flipping through the channels as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eighteen was still gone, maybe shopping. Come to think of it, Bulma hadn't seen her since she left the lab, and that was well over an hour ago. She shrugged it off and cleared her throat to gain the android's attention.

When his cold, blue eyes met hers she repressed a small shudder and gave him a brilliant, albeit forced, smile. "I'm guessing you don't have anywhere else to go, so you're free to stay here tonight," she announced. When he gave no reaction, she continued, "There's plenty of guestrooms upstairs, if you'd like one."

Seventeen was actually surprised that the blue-haired woman was making such an offer considering how scared she was of him. His expression did not betray this, but it kept him from making an immediate answer. He watched with mild amusement as she began to fidget under his silent scrutiny. With a bored shrug he simply replied, "Ok."

Bulma nodded quickly and gestured for him to follow her and went back down the hallway and upstairs. She led him down the hall, far away from her own room, and into one of the larger guestrooms, hoping to appease the android with the luxurious quarters. Not that she was afraid of him. Why should she be? Vegeta could destroy him with one hand tied behind his back, and no doubt he would if the android laid a hand on her.

"Well, do you like it?" she asked once he had time to inspect his surroundings.

The android simply shrugged again and sat on the end of the bed. It was much more than he needed, that was for sure. Still, it never hurt to live in style, even if only for one night. He turned his head to look at Bulma. "Where will my sister be staying?"

"Your sister?" Bulma squeaked out. Honestly, she hadn't even thought about the androids' relationship. She actually thought they were a couple. She hurriedly tried to cover her surprise and answered, "She can have the room across the hall. I don't know when she'll be back, so I'll let you show her to her room when she gets back. I'm going to go to bed. But if you need anything don't hesitate to ask."

Bulma made a hasty retreat, silently praying that they wouldn't need anything. Not only did she not want to interact with them more than she had to, she was very tired and wanted as much beauty sleep as possible. She practically ran down the hall back to her room and jumped into bed again. It was time for some shut-eye.

_A/N: Cell is such a creeper. Just sayin'. To whom it may concern: Vegeta's animosity toward Trunks will be revealed later. Review!_

_By the way, I'm getting some more ideas going for a sequel, so at the time I'm thinking it might happen. Eventually. I have a lot of other things I want to work on first._

_Song: "Enter Sandman" by Metallica_


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

_We think we climb so high  
Upon the backs we've condemned  
We face our consequence  
This is the beginning of the end_

It was morning in West City and Vegeta still hadn't returned to the Capsule Corp compound. Granted, Bulma didn't know that since she hadn't gotten up yet, but she would have been even more worried about him than she had been last night if she knew. When her alarm woke her up, she forced herself out of the warm cocoon of blankets she had wrapped around her and went to the bathroom to take a shower and start her usual morning routine.

After showering and dressing, Bulma went downstairs for some breakfast. As soon as she opened her bedroom door she was assaulted with the scent of waffles and coffee, making her mouth water as she descended the stairs. It wasn't until she got into the kitchen and saw two pairs of lifeless blue eyes turned in her direction that she remembered what happened the day before. She was slightly taken aback seeing the androids calmly sitting at the kitchen table while her airhead mother chatted away happily to the stoic guests. She smiled slightly, wondering how the androids were handling her constant prattling.

Bulma quickly scanned the room for the black flame of hair that would indicate the presence of her lover, but it was nowhere to be found. Sighing, she grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup of steaming hot coffee. She needed the caffeine. She was still worn out from yesterday's events.

"Oh, Bulma honey," Mrs. Brief squealed when she saw her daughter, "You're just in time for breakfast. Have you seen Vegeta? He's going to be late and you know how much he loves waffles."

Bulma shook her head as she sat down at the table, warily keeping an eye on the androids who had yet to say a word. "Haven't seen him yet, Mom. He might not be coming for breakfast."

The blue-haired genius slowly sipped her coffee as Mrs. Brief laid the food out on the table. She happily greeted her father when he strolled into the kitchen, nose buried in his morning newspaper, and sat down in his usual place at the table. He didn't even seem to notice the guests as he poured himself a glass of orange juice and started nibbling the bacon set out in front of him.

"When are you going to finish repairing Sixteen?" Seventeen asked once the blonde woman's incessant chatter stopped when she started eating. He made no move to fill his plate with any of the food on the table. Bulma wondered if androids needed food to live.

"After breakfast," she answered after swallowing a mouthful of waffle. "It should only take a couple more hours."

Seventeen nodded and sat back in his chair. Eighteen brushed her hair behind her ear and rapped her fingers against the table, impatiently waiting for the human to get back to work. She had no interest in sticking around the compound any longer than she had to.

Noticing the androids' impatience, Bulma sped up her eating. Truth be told, she was as eager for them to leave as they were to go. Slamming her empty mug down on the table, she pushed her chair back and announced she was going to her lab to finish fixing the third android. She rushed out of the kitchen and promptly ran into something hard that knocked her off her feet.

"Watch where you're going, Woman," came a gruff voice. Bulma grinned when she saw that the thing she'd run into was her prince, and she was caught safely in his arms.

"Sorry, Vegeta," she giggled. "I didn't see you there. I'm just going back to my lab to finish the android."

"Where are the others?" he asked.

His question was answered when the kitchen door opened and Seventeen and Eighteen walked through it. Both looked bored; Eighteen barely spared the saiyan a glance as she crossed her arms over her chest and Seventeen rested his hands on his hips as he crossed the hallway into the living room, no doubt to watch some more TV.

Bulma watched them for a few seconds before turning back to the saiyan. She couldn't help noticing how tired he looked. She realized he probably hadn't slept all night, but he didn't looked battered and bruised so he couldn't have spent the night fighting anyone – or anything. That was a relief, at least.

"Did you find anything at Gingertown?" she asked.

Vegeta grunted and went into the kitchen to get some food. It had been entirely too long since his last meal, in his opinion. Bulma followed after him and sat across the table from him as she patiently waited for him to inhale his fill of her mother's delicious waffles before questioning him further.

When he finally pushed his plate away, indicating he was finished, Bulma had dozens of questions on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be voiced. "So what was going on last night? Do you know what happened to all those people? Did you figure out why you could sense Frieza and Goku there? You weren't in a fight, were you?"

Vegeta sighed as he listened to her asking questions faster than he could answer. He knew that sooner or later she would stop talking and let him explain what happened. When she finally stopped asking questions, he decided he could start telling the story of what happened.

"The Namekian found another android created by Dr. Gero named Cell. He came from the future to this timeline to absorb Seventeen and Eighteen so he can reach his full potential since they were both destroyed in his own time. He's very strong and very fast and a coward. When the Namekian fought him, he was outmatched, so he ran away. The Namekian, myself, Baldy, and the kid from the future spent all night looking for him, but he's got his ki suppressed. I came back here to make sure that if he does find the other androids, he can't absorb them."

Bulma listened quietly through the short tale, nodding her understanding and encouraging him to continue. It actually made a lot of sense now that she knew what was going on.

"So basically you're stuck protecting them from the big bad wolf?" she quipped.

"Wolf?" Vegeta didn't understand her phrase. Brushing it aside, he shook his head. "I don't care about the androids, but apparently this Cell creature will be undefeatable if he manages to absorb them. Personally, I'm curious to see just how powerful he could become."

Bulma knew his smirk all too well and knew it would be best to take his ego down a few notches lest he do anything he might regret. Namely, allow Cell to have the androids and reach perfection, whatever that meant. "Vegeta, I know you're super strong and all, but I wouldn't take the chance of letting Cell absorb them. You might not be able to destroy him if he does. I know you like testing your strength and all, but don't jeopardize everything to do it."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at her and snorted. "I'm sure I could still defeat him. But I do not intend to let him absorb the androids, if only to save myself from hearing everyone whining about what a bad idea it is."

This time it was Bulma's turn to snort. "Always the tough guy. Can't you just admit you don't know if you'd be strong enough to defeat him and don't want to risk it?"

"No."

"You're such an arrogant jerk."

"And you're a loudmouth woman who doesn't know when to shut up. Weren't you going to go finish repairing that android?" Vegeta snapped.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I was," Bulma snarled as she slammed her hands against the table and stood up. She wasn't really angry with him; she knew his ego was sensitive despite the show of self-confidence he always put on. She didn't enjoy jabbing at it, but sometimes it was the best thing for him and everyone else.

Vegeta watched her leave and sneered. Who did she think she was, implying he was afraid of Cell? He knew he had the power to defeat him even if he did absorb the weaker androids. There was no way his power would increase _that_ much. Maybe the Namekian was a lot stronger than before and fought evenly with Cell. That didn't mean anything. Vegeta knew he had lots more power, he just couldn't access it yet. If the need arose, he would be able to and then he would quickly and easily dispose of the hideous abomination that madman Dr. Gero created.

With wounded pride, Vegeta stood up and stalked off to his gravity room. There was no sense wasting time just because Cell might show up to absorb the androids. He had aggression to get rid of. He could fight the androids, but he was exhausted and if they ganged up on him he might slip up, giving them the opportunity they might still want to kill him. He was now seriously considering letting Cell have the androids so he could prove to everyone, especially Bulma, that he was capable of destroying him even at full power. Then the world would have three less outrageously strong adversaries to contend with; it was a win-win situation, right?

Down in her lab, Bulma was wondering if she took the right approach to make sure Vegeta wouldn't make the wrong decision. She tried to shake her misgivings from her head, but they persisted relentlessly. It seemed the only thing she could do was go and apologize or dive into her work completely so she couldn't think about anything else. She chose the latter.

True to her word, Bulma finished repairing Sixteen after only two hours. She had just put the finishing touches on him when Seventeen and Eighteen came down into the lab to check up on their fallen comrade. Bulma wasn't surprised to see them since she figured they would hold her to her word. Smiling victoriously, she turned to them and pushed the button that would activate Sixteen.

The giant android blinked his eyes open and sat up on the work table. Stoic as ever, he surveyed his surroundings and slid off the table, standing at full height. The other three occupants of the room had to crane their necks to look at him.

'So far, so good,' Bulma thought as she watched him moving around normally. Obviously she hadn't messed up his movement any. That was a good sign. Now she had to make sure he didn't want to kill Goku anymore.

Eighteen beat her to the punch. "Great, you're fixed, Sixteen. Now what do you want to do?"

Sixteen turned to his blonde companion and shrugged. "I have not been programmed to do anything," he told her in his mechanical voice.

"So you don't want to kill Goku?" Bulma asked from behind him.

He turned around and looked at the blue-haired scientist. He did not recognize her since he had been deactivated before coming to the lab and he had been given no files on her identity. "No. I have no reason to destroy any life."

Bulma smiled and mentally high-fived herself. It seemed as though the android was both functioning properly and successfully changed from being Goku's assassin to being a pleasantly neutral party. She nodded and turned her attention to the other two androids who were studying him for any deficiencies.

"Well, your friend's all fixed up. So I guess you're free to do whatever now."

"Even if we want to destroy all human life?" Eighteen asked, completely deadpan. She really had no intention of killing everyone, but she couldn't help herself. Seeing the woman's horrified expression was priceless.

"W-what? No!" Bulma shouted. "No you cannot destroy all human life!"

Seventeen and Eighteen laughed at the distraught genius and turned to go back upstairs, gesturing for Sixteen to come with them. "Don't worry, we won't kill _too_ many people," Seventeen assured her, "Just the ones who get in our way."

Bulma was not only scared that they would kill more than just the ones who 'got in their way,' but also remembered they needed to be kept safe from Cell. She didn't know if she should tell them about him or not. They seemed to be at least as cocky as Vegeta, so there was the chance they would want to fight Cell themselves. That or they would think the idea of being absorbed to fulfill Dr. Gero's master plan would be worthwhile. She highly doubted that, but there was always the outside chance.

"Where are you going, then?" she asked once they reached the top of the stairs.

"To go have some fun," Seventeen answered with an eye-roll. There was a whole world out there to send into chaos; it wasn't that he necessarily enjoyed causing others harm, but he was amoral enough not to care if his actions _did_ cause harm.

Bulma raced up the stairs after them. "But you can have fun here. There's lots to do!"

"No thanks," Seventeen replied, waving his hand in dismissal as he led his little gang to the front door. He wasn't going to be stuck in one place for more than a day. In his opinion, they had already spent too much time at the compound, no matter how many TV channels they had to watch. Time spent in one place was time wasted. He was a free man now with infinite power, why not go use it?

"No, wait!" Bulma called after them. But they were far out of earshot by the time she got to the door. They were only three little dots in the sky. Groaning, Bulma slammed the door, turned on her heel, and ran through the halls to find Vegeta. Luckily, she heard the gravity simulator running and knew exactly where to find him.

She skidded to a halt in front of the metal door and started pounding frantically against it with her small fists. "Vegeta!" she screamed, "Vegeta, the androids left! I don't know where they're going. Vegeta, do you hear me? Cell might find them! You have to go stop them now!"

Inside the gravity room, Vegeta could hear her fine. The problem was he didn't care to listen to her. So what if the androids left? So what if Cell found them and absorbed them? They weren't his problem and he wasn't going to babysit them. Let them go and let Cell have them. He'll destroy all of them at once and save himself a whole lot of trouble.

After a few minutes of pounding the door and screaming at the top of her lungs, Bulma came to the conclusion that Vegeta was ignoring her. Her heart sank when she realized it was probably because of her jab at his pride earlier. Now he was mad at her and the androids were gone and the whole world was in greater danger than ever before because Cell might get to them and absorb them and transform into his perfect state. She mentally kicked herself for taking the wrong approach in making sure Vegeta would stop Cell from absorbing the androids. She ended up causing the opposite reaction.

The z-fighters had not given up their search for the horrendous life-absorbing creature. Every time they felt a strong ki growing they would take off in that direction only to find a city or village completely deserted with only piles of clothes left as a reminder that people had, not too long ago, lived there. Piccolo was more frustrated than the others as they seemed stuck one step behind Cell. He was a master at suppressing his ki and disappearing from the scene when they arrived to stop him.

Unbeknownst to them, Cell was often not far away when they came to check out what was going on. Sometimes, he was only a few yards away, close enough to eavesdrop and gain satisfaction from their frustrated conversations. He laughed when they wouldn't take the time to look around and find him right under their noses. He could feel his power growing substantially each time he drained an entire town's population of its energy. Even so, he knew he was far from reaching perfection and desperately wanted to find Seventeen and Eighteen to become complete.

"We must be gaining on him," Krillin grumbled after the small band of warriors landed in an empty street of yet another lifeless city. "We felt him here just a few minutes ago."

Piccolo nodded and looked up and down the street. A shudder wracked his body as he remembered the cruelly painful way each of Cell's victims met their demise. Hundreds, thousands of helpless people were sucked into the android's body for the purpose of increasing his strength. It was revolting and horrifying. Memories flashed through his mind of the pain he experienced when Cell tried absorbing him, only managing to take his arm. It was the worst agony he ever felt. He snarled and clenched his hands into fists, rage overtaking his reason.

"Cell!" he screamed, "I will find you and defeat you!" He didn't care if the android could hear him. He needed to release his pent up frustration in some way. Threatening his prey was the best he could do at the moment.

Cell grinned at the display as he peeked around the corner of a building not far away. While he may have been overpowered in their battle earlier, he had made great gains in his power and there was no way he could be defeated again. Still, he wasn't willing to risk it before he attained perfection by absorbing the other androids. He patiently waited for the warriors to finish their search of the area before taking off to look for him elsewhere. With a smugness that could rival Vegeta's, Cell levitated off the ground and blasted off in the opposite direction they had gone in pursuit of a ghost.

"So now what do we do?" Eighteen asked her brother as they touched down in the center of a busy street in North City. She was bored and didn't see any good shopping malls in the area. That was disappointing. She pushed her hair back behind her ear as she turned to face Seventeen.

He put his hands on his hips and looked around, completely ignoring the honking and angry shouts of the drivers of the cars flying past him. He didn't even notice when one crashed into the immovable Sixteen and caused a small pile-up of other vehicles. He smirked when he smelled the smoke rising from the cars and waited with eager anticipation for the sound of explosions as the fires reached gas tanks and erupted in fireballs. He loved chaos.

Soon the shrill sound of fire trucks was heard as firefighters rushed to the scene to put out the fires and rescue anyone who may have survived the accidents and explosions. The red trucks skidded to a halt near the wreckage while the three stoic androids watched in boredom. They weren't concerned about the lives lost because of their actions.

As fate would have it, the three androids were in the city that Cell recently decided was his next target. It had a high population, which would greatly increase his power, and it was far from any of the roaming z-fighters who were still foolish enough to seek him out even though none of them had a hope of being able to defeat him anymore. Cell didn't know the androids were there before he made his descent into the bustling streets of the city, but when he heard a great commotion – cars crashing, sirens blaring, explosions – he became curious and flew over to the source of the chaos. And there, standing in the middle of the street looking bored with attention diverted from the car pile-up and hands firmly planted on hips, were the petite androids he had waited so long to meet. He licked his lips with anticipation before lowering himself to the ground and striding over to the unsuspecting androids.

"Greetings, my brother and sister," came the sickening voice from behind. The androids turned to see what creep had addressed them, only to gasp and take a step back in disgust. What they saw was a hideous green creature that had a predatory look in its eyes as it appraised them.

Eighteen's lip raised in a scornful snarl before she regained control over her expression and returned to stoicism. "What the hell are you?" she snapped, raising a fist threateningly. She didn't like the way the monster kept advancing on them.

"Oh, my peach," Cell drawled, again licking his lips, "I am Gero's perfect creation. And soon, you will be a part of me." He raised his tail as the tip widened into a funnel shape.

"What the hell?" Seventeen barely managed to shout before he was put on the defensive as the funnel-shaped tail darted in his direction. He dodged it and flew straight for the green android, ready to defend himself against this supposed 'perfect creation.' He had no idea what he was up against.

Vegeta was still busy exercising in the gravity room when he felt a tremendous increase in the ki signature that was a strange mixture of the strongest fighters ever to walk the Earth. He immediately stopped in his training and ran from the gravity room, taking to the skies before he felt another surge in the power. It was unbelievably strong. Surely it was much greater than his own even as a fully powered super saiyan. He cringed when he realized this and flew faster.

The power he felt was almost too much to bear. The magnitude of it gave him a splitting headache as his senses were completely overwhelmed. He ascended to super saiyan and flew on, determined to stop this new threat before it became more serious. There was no doubt in his mind that Cell had gotten the foolish androids; there was no other way to explain that kind of power. It was unfathomable. And he was angry with himself for once again letting his cockiness get in the way of reason instead of stopping an enemy before it reached its full potential. He never should have let Gohan transform into the oozaru in his initial battle on Earth, never should have encouraged Frieza to transform, and never should have let Cell get the androids. He felt like a fool for making the same mistake three times. Would this one lead to yet another defeat?

Cell was thrilled with his new power. Throwing some test punches, he was impressed with his own speed and agility. Had he not been the most powerful being in the universe before, he certainly was now. Smirking to himself, he kicked the head of Sixteen away with a sneer of contempt, remembering how easy it had been to blow him to pieces once he had Seventeen absorbed. The fully mechanical giant may have caused him some trouble in his imperfect state, but he was no match for him when he was semi-perfect. And now, now he was perfect. Complete. Unrivaled. He raised his head when he felt the quickly approaching saiyan prince. How wonderful. He would already have a chance to test his strength.

When Vegeta saw the smug android waiting for him, he raised his ki as high as he could push it before landing a few feet in front of Cell. He glared at the bug-like creature and clenched his fists. He still couldn't believe the power that thing held. He knew his own paled in comparison, which was not knowledge he welcomed readily. For years he had worked to become the strongest warrior in the universe, nearly killing himself too many times to count. He finally ascended to super saiyan and surpassed Kakarrot, but for what? To be second again to an android? He didn't care how brilliant its creator was, he would not let any machine outdo him.

"Hello, Vegeta," Cell greeted in his deep, smooth voice. He smirked, knowing the saiyan was seething with rage over his newly gained power.

Vegeta spit in the android's direction and crossed his arms over his chest. "I take it you're Cell? Not too impressive."

The android's eyes widened momentarily before he was able to overcome the shock of not instantly being revered by an inferior being. But he knew all about Vegeta and his pride, so he let that comment roll off without too much thought. "Not too impressive, eh? I'd like to see how your pitiful strength compares against me. I am _perfect._"

The saiyan scoffed as his tail started flicking agitatedly. He knew he had no hope of defeating Cell, but his pride wouldn't let him back off. He was about to issue a challenge when he felt the familiar ki of some of the earthling warriors, including the boy from the future. He repressed a growl and fixed his eyes straight ahead as he refused to acknowledge their presence when they landed behind him.

Cell raised his fingers to his lips as he made the polite gesture of hiding his laughter. He only succeeded in offending the prince who knew his gesture was one of condescension rather than respect. He had seen the exact same thing countless times with Frieza. Yes, he could see the tyrant's genes in the creature standing before him quite clearly. It made his skin crawl.

"So this means he's complete," Trunks muttered when he saw the powerful android. There was no mistaking it. Even if he didn't know what the android looked like before, he knew that power could only be a result of the androids being absorbed.

Vegeta sighed and nodded. He blamed himself for this course of events. If he had only listened to his woman he might have been able to prevent this from happening. He should have destroyed them while he had the chance and made it impossible for Cell to ever get them. He shook his head to rid himself of the should-haves that were assaulting him mentally. There were already plenty of should-haves from his past, he didn't need more.

"Well, are we just going to talk or have you come here to fight?" Cell asked patronizingly. He readied himself in his fighting stance while he waited for the warriors to decide what to do next.

"Get out of here," Vegeta ordered the others. He would not fight this thing with them standing around to get in the way of his fight. He already knew this fight wasn't going to be easy. In fact, his defeat was unquestionable. Not only did he not want the others to see his shame, he didn't want them to get involved and try helping him. No, this was his fight. It was his fault Cell became complete and it was his duty to be the first to fight – and die. Besides, he was really the only one with even the slightest chance of winning.

"No, father, we won't leave you," Trunks snapped back. "You're going to need our help." He didn't notice his slip-up until he saw the cold glare directed at him over the prince's shoulder. He slapped his hand over his mouth and groaned. He couldn't stop calling Vegeta his father, it seemed. How embarrassing.

"I need no assistance," Vegeta growled back. He was done arguing with the boy over whether or not he was his father. It wasn't hard to figure out. He was incredibly strong, even a super saiyan. There was no other saiyan besides Kakarrot still alive, and he was obviously not Kakarrot's brat. That left him as the only potential sire. He realized it quite some time ago, but he was done denying it. It was of no importance anyway. Not now.

Trunks didn't miss the fact that Vegeta did not call him out on addressing him as father. The corner of his lips raised slightly in a ghost of a smile before he was brought back to reality with the impending doom of the planet standing a few yards away. Realizing that his father was determined to battle alone, he nodded and stepped back, motioning for the others to follow suit as he lifted off and moved outside the city limits to keep tabs on the fight from a relatively safe distance. His heart pounded in his chest as he forced himself to watch what would likely be the untimely end of his alternate timeline father.

Vegeta's tail tightened around his waist as he lowered himself into his fighting stance. In the back of his mind fear was clawing its way to his consciousness, but he fought it back for the sake of his pride. He knew there was no way to win, but he was going to try his hardest anyway. His desire to wipe the smirk that rivaled his own off his opponent's face grew with a bubbling rage that overtook him until he threw himself forward in the opening attack of the battle.

"He can't win," Trunks whispered to himself, the waves of despair already overtaking him. His fists tightened as he fought to restrain himself. He wanted to help, but he couldn't.

Cell easily dodged Vegeta's uppercut and drove his knee into the prince's gut before phasing out of sight while the saiyan tried to get his breath back. By will more than strength, Vegeta righted himself and tried to sense the whereabouts of the android, but he wasn't fast enough and in a split second he felt a throbbing pain in his head where the android's double fist collided with his temple, knocking him to the ground.

Somewhat dazed, Vegeta scrambled to his feet and only barely managed to cross his arms in front of his chest to block another blow. Put on the defensive, he was hardly able to keep up with Cell's rapid flurry of attacks before they started landing on their intended targets. It looked as if he wasn't even trying from the way the battle was going.

"Father!" Trunks screamed as he drew his broken sword from its sheath, intent on flying down to aid Vegeta. He was startled when he felt a strong hand grip his ankle and pull him back. He cast a confused look to the Namekian who only shook his head, forbidding him from interfering. He turned back to the battle only to see Vegeta again crashing into the ground.

Vegeta rose back up to his feet and wiped the blood from his lip as he glared daggers at the green android who he hadn't managed to land a solid blow on. He felt his own energy slipping and knew he wouldn't be able to take much more of this abuse before he was knocked unconscious. And then he truly would be defenseless. Raising his shaking arm, he aimed the palm of his hand at the android and started gathering an immense amount of energy in his hand. He smirked when he saw that the android was willing to take the blast head-on instead of moving out of the way.

He screamed, releasing the blinding yellow wave of energy on his opponent. He looked on in shock when the android crossed his arms in front of himself and took the Big Bang inconsequentially; he hardly budged an inch from the force of the attack. Growling, he clenched his fists at his side and slid his foot back as he prepared to pounce on the android in another attack.

The fight only lasted a few more minutes before Vegeta was, as he predicted, knocked unconscious by the invincible android. Seeing his father revert back to his base form before falling to the ground for what seemed like the hundredth time and feeling his ki drop dangerously low, Trunks was no longer able to hold himself back. With a shout of rage he powered up to super saiyan and took off before Piccolo was able to stop him again.

Trunks aimed a punch at the android's head, and surprisingly it hit and knocked Cell to the side. He twisted around to land a kick, but it was blocked and he was thrown into the ground before he knew what was happening. He looked up in horror at the monster standing over him and closed his eyes as he waited for death. He was surprised when he felt no more pain, only hearing the slightly restrained chuckling of the android.

"Boy, you have even less power than your pathetic father," Cell explained in a frustratingly condescending tone. "You are not worth my time. I will not kill either of you – yet. I know that Goku is sick with the heart virus presently. I wish to fight with him before I kill any of Earth's greatest warriors. I would like to have a tournament first."

Trunks' brows knit in his confusion. "A tournament?"

Cell chuckled again before replying, "You'll hear about it soon enough. Until then, train hard. I want you at your best next time we fight." He slowly raised off the ground and flew off, leaving behind a very confused demi-saiyan.

_A/N: Cell Games? What? I really can't help but feel that this part of the story is getting tedious. I think when I wrote it I was almost in a hurry to finish it. Four months was more than long enough to spend on one story, right? I'm going to _try _to get the next chapter up tomorrow, but I want to extend it quite a bit. Somehow I need to fit a year into one chapter (hint, hint) and do it well. Or, the other option I've been considering, make the next chapter into two chapters. Any thoughts/opinions? I'd appreciate reader feedback - on this and anything else - so review, please!_

_Song: "The Beginning of the End" by Nine Inch Nails_


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

_I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
A reason for all that I do  
And the reason is you_

As soon as Vegeta was healed by a senzu bean after his defeat at Cell's hands, he took off for an undisclosed location in the wilderness to brood. He was humiliated by his defeat and even more humiliated by the fact that Cell hadn't given him the honor of killing him in battle. He would have preferred death to living in yet another's shadow, but he was determined not to stay in that shadow. He knew there were greater heights he could reach, if only he could figure out how to get there. He was a super saiyan! He was legendary! But, he was still too weak to defeat a disgusting android abomination. There had to be a way to become even stronger. And so he stayed alone in the wilderness contemplating how he was going to attain an even greater power.

At first Trunks took the advice of Krillin, who told him that Vegeta needed his space for a while and should be left alone. He stayed at Capsule Corp with Bulma for a while, and she gave him a suit of armor identical to Vegeta's while he was there. Eventually, though, Trunks became too worried about his father and sought him out, thinking he might be training. If that were the case, then maybe they could train together and help each other grow stronger. When he found Vegeta, though, he was disappointed to find that, not only was he not training, he wasn't moving at all. He stood like a statue, overlooking the vast rocky plains with fists clenched at his sides. He had a fierce scowl carved onto his regal features that didn't change for two whole days.

During the two days of Vegeta's self-imposed isolation, Goku was cured of the heart virus and immediately returned to his training. He was excited about the new opponent who could take Vegeta down effortlessly. He knew he wasn't at that level yet, but he knew a way to reach it in a short enough time. Knowing there wasn't any time to waste, he came up with a plan to help himself, Trunks, Gohan, and Vegeta get a year of training in before the proposed tournament. Surely, with that much time to train, at least _one _of them would gain the power needed to destroy the invincible android.

Goku took Gohan with him as he used instant transmission to get to where Vegeta and Trunks were. He found them as they had been for two days; Vegeta was still standing on the crest of a rock formation while Trunks sat on the ground down below, silently waiting for his father to come out of his trance and get back to training. His sudden arrival startled the lavender-haired demi-saiyan, but Vegeta seemed not to notice the unexpected appearance of his rival.

"Goku! What are you doing here?" Trunks asked eagerly as he stood up to greet him and Gohan.

Goku's eyes shifted from Trunks to Vegeta and back. He smiled slyly and put his hands on his hips before answering, "I have a plan for how we can defeat Cell."

"Really?" Trunks grinned.

"Yeah," Goku continued, watching Vegeta for any signs of interest out of the corner of his eye. "I know a way we can get a whole year of training done in a day."

"How?"

"In the Hyperbolic Time Chamber."

"The what?"

Goku was disappointed when the other full-blooded saiyan still hadn't shown any signs of listening in on his conversation with Trunks. He was purposely talking loud enough for him to hear, but it didn't seem to be working. He frowned a little.

"It's a room on Kami's Lookout where time passes differently than in this dimension. So while a year passes in the chamber, only a day passes on Earth."

"You're kidding!"

Goku shook his head and smiled again. At least someone was excited about his plan. He gestured his head toward Vegeta. "So how's your training been going with Vegeta?"

Trunks' grin flattened into a hard line. "It hasn't. He hasn't moved a muscle since I've been here. He just stands there all day staring into space. I don't know what he's doing."

The tailless saiyan knew that Vegeta had a tendency to sulk after a humiliating defeat, but two days of standing around doing nothing was out of character for him. Usually, when he was beaten, he would lock himself in his gravity chamber for days until he thought he had pounded himself into the ground long enough to gain enough power to have the advantage again. Standing idly was not the typical way the prince chose to spend his time. Especially not when there was a huge, imminent threat looming in the near future.

Goku levitated up to where Vegeta was standing and ducked under a punch thrown his way. He stood up straight again to face Vegeta who was glaring daggers at him. He grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "What's up, 'Geta?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed to slits as he considered the best way to murder the third-class trash. "What are you doing here, clown?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Didn't you hear what I told Trunks?" Goku asked.

Vegeta snorted and turned around to face the rugged terrain again. He had no interest in the fool's plan. It wasn't possible to train for a year in one day.

"Or are you too scared? Think you won't be able to handle it?" Goku prodded.

The only response he got was a low growl and the prince's tail lashing angrily behind him. He knew that struck a nerve and it wouldn't take much more to convince the saiyan prince to come with him to train in the time chamber.

"You could train with Trunks the first day and then me and Gohan could train the next day."

"Tell me, Kakarrot," Vegeta hissed venomously, "What difference would a year of training make?"

Goku smirked smugly. "There's a higher level than super saiyan, Vegeta. I dreamt about it when I had the heart virus. I think if we train hard for a year, one of us will be able to reach it."

"Oh, and I suppose you think that someone will be you?" Vegeta growled as he spun around to scowl at the younger saiyan.

Goku shrugged and grinned. "I know it'll be me if you don't bother going in."

Vegeta sighed in defeat and nodded to himself. "Fine, I'll go. I _will_ become strong enough to defeat that oversized grasshopper."

There was no doubt in Goku's mind that Vegeta would definitely push himself to new heights in power. When he was given a goal, especially if that goal was revenge against an opponent who had stolen his honor, he would meet it and then some. He knew Vegeta would reach the next level, if not in the year in the time chamber, then eventually in his regular training. He could be worried that Vegeta would so far surpass him that he would never be able to catch up, but he knew that he had the potential to reach the same level. Maybe even go higher. He liked that idea.

"Then let's go. We don't know how much time we have before Cell's tournament." Goku turned and went back down to where Gohan and Trunks were waiting for the full-blooded saiyans. "Alright, everybody, grab hold and let's go!"

Once his three passengers had their hands on his shoulders, Goku put his fingers to his forehead, locked on to Mr. Popo's ki signature, and transported them to the Lookout. They headed for the Hyperbolic Time Chamber while Goku dictated who would go in first and what the limits of the chamber were: that only two occupants could go in at a time and they could only stay for a year. During that time 24 hours would pass on Earth.

They came to a stop in front of an ornate wood door, the entrance to another dimension where they could train in harsh conditions, undisturbed, for a whole year. Vegeta was eager to get his training started, knowing he could reach the next level soon. Trunks, meanwhile, was uneasy about spending a whole year alone with Vegeta. He desperately wanted to prove himself to his father that he was a true saiyan warrior, but he didn't know if he could handle the solitude. He was also his mother's son and needed social interaction. He was convinced Vegeta didn't need – or want – any. When Mr. Popo opened the door for them to enter, Trunks hesitated while Vegeta proudly marched in without a second thought.

"Good luck," Goku whispered to the nervous demi-saiyan before the door was closed behind him as he entered the blinding white dimension.

Trunks groaned when he heard the door close with a resounding boom in the empty vastness of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Luck? He would need it if he was going to survive a whole year of training with Vegeta. Or, worse, a year of training by himself. Vegeta was already gone from the living quarters to begin his training.

'Doesn't he care about anything besides training?' Trunks wondered glumly as he trudged to the back of the living area, only to find the white void stretching out infinitely in front of him. He stumbled back a few steps, unable to believe such a place could exist. There was nothing out there. Absolutely nothing. And he was going to spend a _year_ out there. He swallowed hard and glanced over his shoulder at the door that would take him back to Earth. It was too late to back out. He stepped down onto the white floor and nearly fell on his face. He felt heavier than ever before in his life as he tried to stand upright. He was now sure he was in hell.

Outside the chamber, Goku sat down on the step in front of the door with his chin resting in his upturned hands. "Since Piccolo fused with Kami, there aren't any dragonballs, which means we can't wish back any of the people Cell killed."

Gohan nodded as he sat down next to his father. "What about the dragonballs on Namek?"

Goku rubbed his chin as he thought about that. Going to Namek was much easier now that he knew the instant transmission technique, but he didn't want them to rely on the Namekian dragonballs whenever they had a crisis. It would be much better for the earth to have its own set. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "That would work, but we really should have a set of dragonballs of our own. But how? Only Namekians can make them."

"We _do_ need a new guardian," Mr. Popo interjected. "Perhaps a Namekian would be willing to fill that position and create new dragonballs. I still have the model for Shenron that Kami made."

"Hey, that's a great idea!" Goku exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "Now I just need to find New Namek…"

Gohan watched wide-eyed as his father raised his fingers to his forehead and disappeared. He couldn't believe getting a replacement guardian _and_ eternal dragon could be that simple. But his disbelief was assuaged when, a few minutes later, his father reappeared with a young Namekian at his side. He grinned and leaped to his feet when he recognized the new guardian.

"Dende!"

"Gohan?" Dende asked, then grinned almost as wide as his demi-saiyan friend. "Gohan, it's you!"

Goku smiled at the reunion before turning to the caretaker of the Lookout. "Mr. Popo, this is Dende. He was personally recommended to be Earth's new guardian. He's still young, but I think he'll do a good job. You can show him what to do, right?"

Mr. Popo nodded and watched the new guardian as he caught up with his friend who he hadn't seen in almost four years. He approved of Goku's choice in guardian. The boy was clearly pure-hearted and compassionate. He would make a good guardian for the earth, indeed.

"Great! So, Dende, can you make a new eternal dragon?" Goku asked.

Dende nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I've never done it before…"

Mr. Popo approached the young guardian and put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I still have the model for the dragon from our old guardian. You can use it to make the new dragon." He led Dende away, leaving the father and son behind to discuss training.

Vegeta went out into the white void until the gravity was tugging him to the ground and the air was almost too thick to breathe. He was sweating bullets as the temperature rose to levels higher than even his saiyan physiology was comfortable with and he felt like he was dying. It was perfect for his training. Unbearable. He filled his lungs and lowered himself to his stance to begin his kata. There was no use wasting time adjusting to his environment because it would change quickly and unexpectedly anyway.

He felt Trunks' ki rise as he ascended to super saiyan and shook his head. The boy didn't understand how to significantly build his strength in a relatively short period of time. Most likely he took for granted the fact that he could ascend to the legendary and only ever trained in that form instead of building his power in his base state first. 'Foolish boy,' Vegeta thought with a sneer as he started battling an imaginary opponent, 'His power would grow much faster if he spent some time training without ascending. But I'll let him figure that out for himself.'

He knew what Goku was trying to do by having him train with his son at the same time. He wanted them to form a close father-son bond. He scoffed at the idea. Even if he did accept the fact that Trunks was his son, that didn't mean he would act as a father. He did not have Trunks in this time, so as far as he was concerned, he wasn't really his son. It was hard enough accepting him despite the obvious reasons to believe he was anyway. Though it wasn't Trunks' fault, Vegeta was ashamed that he existed. He was ashamed because he knew he was the result of a dishonorable relationship with Bulma in the other timeline. There was no doubt in his mind that they weren't mated when Trunks was conceived. Vegeta knew it was unfair to act with animosity toward the teenager for something his alternate timeline self did, but he couldn't help it. He resented the proof that he had no honor.

The first day passed without much incident. Vegeta and Trunks went their separate ways, never seeing each other as they trained alone in the endless nothingness. Trunks was disappointed that he still wasn't getting to train with his father, but he didn't say anything when Vegeta returned to the living quarters to get nourishment and rest a few short hours before returning to his training. Vegeta did his best to ignore the teenager. He still wanted nothing to do with him. As far as he was concerned, Trunks was nothing but a bastard child, not his son. Not worthy of his time.

Trunks didn't bother trying to initiate a conversation with Vegeta. He could tell that he wasn't in the mood to talk – as if he ever was. He was cold and aloof and actively pushed him away when he got too close. Trunks never felt so alone before in his life. He was beginning to think going into the time chamber by himself would have been better. At least then he would know there was no one else there who he could potentially socialize with; it was painful having his father in there with him, ignoring him. He was curious about his father, determined to earn his respect, and hopeful to train with him. But Vegeta didn't care about any of that. It was as if he didn't even see his son.

Without ever saying a word or even acknowledging Trunks' presence, Vegeta went to bed after his first long day of strenuous training in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. His body was aching from the day's exertion, but he knew he needed to get up and get back to training in a few hours. There was no night and day, but his body would automatically wake up after around four hours anyway. He collapsed into one of the beds, effectively claiming it as his own, and went to sleep.

'Father, are you ever going to see me?' Trunks thought as he laid down on the other bed. 'Are we going to spend an entire year together, yet apart?'

The weeks in the time chamber were passing slowly for Vegeta. He could feel tremendous gains in his power, but he found himself often distracted by one blue-haired woman he hadn't seen in what felt like forever. He was losing his mind without her, his only companion being his alternate timeline's son, who wasn't the greatest company. He was, in ways, too clingy, and in others too distant. Vegeta was frustrated in trying to figure out what the boy wanted from him. He was not going to act fatherly, but he didn't exactly want to be _un_fatherly. If nothing else, he was curious about the life formed when he and the woman mated. He was undoubtedly very powerful, already having reached the legendary at such a young age. But he was shy, at least around him, and that bothered Vegeta. Why should his son feel so insecure around him? Simply because he didn't grow up with a father in his timeline? No son of his should ever be intimidated by anyone. Even if he was a bastard, he had the royal blood of a saiyan running through his veins!

In truth, Trunks was very intimidated by his father. He could tell that he was a proud man, as arrogant as his mother always described him to be. And he was strong. Unbelievably strong. As a super saiyan he couldn't compare, and he could tell from watching a few short battles that his father's techniques and experience were unrivaled. It was a daunting task to try to measure up to such a powerful man's expectations. He was afraid of letting him down, being a disappointment. He didn't want to be rejected by the only father he would ever know. At times he would try to open up to his father, but he felt uncomfortable when he received no response. So then for a period of time he would force himself to remain reserved, but eventually he couldn't stand the mental solitude any longer and again reached out for companionship.

And so the first two months passed uncomfortably for both inhabitants of the chamber. At first Trunks hoped to train with his father and learn from him, but he soon learned that Vegeta preferred training alone. Vegeta would go far off into the pure white expanse and Trunks would stay closer to the living quarters, unable to handle the increased gravity and tumultuous changes in air density and temperature. It was unbearable, yet Vegeta endured it daily for hours on end, sometimes not sleeping for days at a time.

To say that Trunks was impressed with his father's dedication would be an understatement. But even so, he was critical of his one-track mind that made no room for him or, apparently, Bulma. All he cared about was growing stronger so that he could personally defeat Cell. His main objective was being the strongest. He didn't know how much Vegeta really was suffering inside each night he went to bed without Bulma at his side. He didn't know how deeply Vegeta regretted his mistake of letting the androids go and the guilt he felt over putting the world in danger for the sake of his pride. All of this was hidden behind the stoic mask of the saiyan prince. The same mask he put on for everyone – except Bulma.

How Vegeta missed her! He promised to mate with her once the androids were defeated. They would be 'married' in human terms and then they would be mated as saiyans. But now he had to wait a whole year longer because he was so foolish. She would only have to wait another day, but he was left to feel incredible loneliness and sexual frustration for a year. A whole year. There were days he felt he couldn't stand it anymore and wanted nothing more than to leave the white oblivion and return to Earth where he could be with his woman. Even if he wasn't mated with her, he wanted to see her again and smell her sweet scent.

Once, Trunks ventured a little farther out than before, far enough to see his father training in the distance. He was going through his normal routine when he saw Vegeta engulfed in flames that would surely kill him if he didn't escape. "Father!" he screamed, powering up and flying over to help him. He felt the heat from the tongues of fire licking at him and felt renewed desperation to help his father, but before he could reach him, Vegeta knocked him aside.

"I train alone," he growled, tail flicking angrily behind him. He turned his back on the floored boy and walked away, deeper into the nothingness until he was out of sight. Trunks knew he couldn't follow him that far out. He would be crushed.

'What happened?' he asked himself as he pushed himself up to sit cross-legged on the floor. 'There was fire here a second ago, but it's gone.' He sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers. That blow to the head was going to hurt for a while. Slowly, he got up and, after casting another longing glance over his shoulder, went back to the living area to get a drink and apply some ice to his throbbing head.

"Foolish brat," Vegeta spat as he walked away. "He knows not to bother me while I am training. It was his own fault." He crossed his arms over his chest and stopped in his tracks. A pang of guilt coursed through him before he pushed all thoughts of the boy aside. He had more training to do and could not be distracted by his petty feelings. He frowned and powered up to super saiyan again, determined to reach the next level. He knew it was there. He just had to find out how to get there. He already reached a new level, a level beyond a super saiyan. He didn't think that was the power he was reaching for, though. It wasn't that much higher than the level he was at before he started training in the time chamber. He could still feel more inside. What he felt was more primal, raging, untamable. When he brought it out, it would be radical.

Trunks sat at the table in the kitchen with an ice pack pressed against his head while he sipped a tall glass of water. He sighed heavily and tried to ignore the growing desire to escape the white hell he was trapped in for another ten months. He was determined to stick it out for the whole year and prove himself worthy of being called Vegeta's son.

"Father, you are so cold. You push me away when I only want to help. Do you know who I am? Do you know that I am your son? I know you're proud. I can see it. But there is more to you than arrogance. Mother told me you were a prince. Is that why you distance yourself from everyone else? Because you think you're above them?" Trunks quietly pondered these questions that ran through his mind all too often. He never could come up with a satisfactory answer to any of them. His father was as much a mystery to him now as he had been while he was growing up.

Bulma warned her son never to expect more from Vegeta. She told him that he would never play the role of father as Trunks desperately wanted him to. Trunks remembered this, but he couldn't shake the want for a dad anyway. Here he was, with his father, the man who died when he was a baby. And yet, he may as well have been dead for as much as he knew about him. Vegeta didn't open up. And he feared he was incapable of ever loving him.

Trunks cringed when he felt his father's ki flare higher than ever before. As far away as he was, the level of power was still enough to cause pain when Trunks sensed it. Proud as he was of his father's achievement, he was starting to lose hope in his ability to make such drastic gains himself and gain the approval of his callous father. He sighed and dropped the ice pack on the table in front of him. He wasted enough time already. It was time to get back to his own training and prove to Vegeta that he wasn't a weakling. Considering how much he knew Vegeta trained, it wasn't so hard to imagine how he became so powerful since his first arrival three years earlier. If that was how Vegeta trained during that whole time, he was surprised he wasn't actually stronger.

Vegeta was powered up to his full strength, but all that accomplished was bulking up his muscles to the point where he could hardly move. His speed and agility suffered greatly in this form. His strength was incredible, but what good would it do him in an actual fight? No, he knew that there had to be a higher plateau to reach, one where both speed and strength were increased. He knew there was still a deep reserve of energy within, but he still couldn't bring it out. He tried using emotion to release it, but it was unnatural, forced. The realization hit that the emotion needed to be real. It had to be raw and pure, and then his power would erupt in its full fury.

The prince lowered his power until he was above super saiyan, yet not bulked up. Of course his power was still indescribable, but it wouldn't be enough to defeat Cell. Still, he was pleased with his progress. He already reached a new, higher level after only two months spent in the time chamber. He had ten more months to increase his strength. Maybe then he would be able to destroy Cell.

For hours he battled imaginary opponents, moving deeper and deeper into the white void. When the temperature dropped far below freezing he plunged deeper into the endless horizon, forcing himself beyond his breaking point, refusing to give in to his body's demands for rest. He wanted to waste no time coddling his needs; no, he was going to use every minute of every day to the fullest to reach the new level where he would become truly unbeatable.

Vegeta did not return to the living quarters for two weeks after his last unpleasant encounter with Trunks. He was starving, dehydrated, and exhausted, but he pushed himself on in his training, refusing to give in to his body's demands for nourishment and rest. He was a saiyan elite, not a weakling. He would not be controlled by his bodily needs when he had more important things to do. Training was his top priority. When he finally did return to the gateway between dimensions, he found Trunks sitting at the table eating a pile of spaghetti and meatballs. His stomach growled as he passed by to get his own meal.

Trunks followed his father with his eyes as he wolfed down his food. He hadn't seen him for days and he looked pretty beat up. Though he still kept his head held high, it was obvious he was struggling to keep moving. His stomach was growling with a ferocity that would put an angry bear to shame and his body was covered in bruises, burns, and cuts. He marveled at the full-blooded saiyan's ability to train so hard for so long without taking a single break. Every waking moment he felt his father's ki flaring with attacks, dropping when he poured too much energy into one, and raising higher as he grew in power. He couldn't see what Vegeta was doing to gain so much power, but the results were undeniable. He was much stronger than he had been the last time he saw him. If only he could have the same dedication to his training, maybe he would be able to make similar gains in strength.

Vegeta sat down across from Trunks with a leg of lamb and side of beef and started tearing into it. Trunks grimaced when he saw his father eating pounds of uncooked meat. Blood was dripping down his hands and chin and he could hear bones cracking and crunching as Vegeta easily chewed through them and lapped up the marrow inside. Either Vegeta didn't notice or didn't care about his son's revulsion. He was too interested in his meal, the first he'd had in 15 days. The meat he had wouldn't be enough to satisfy his hunger, but it was a start.

'I think I'm going to puke,' Trunks thought as he watched Vegeta licking the blood off his fingers.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" Vegeta snapped when he saw Trunks' pale face.

"N-nothing. I'm fine," Trunks stammered.

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow, then shrugged and got up to get more food. Trunks prayed he wasn't going for more meat. If he had to watch his father eat more raw meat like a wild beast, he had no doubt that he would regurgitate his entire lunch. He sipped at his water in an attempt to calm his stomach. He was relieved when Vegeta sat down with a large bowl of fruit and a pot of steamed rice.

Trunks laid his hands in his lap and tried not to fidget as he anxiously waited for his father to finish his meal so he could properly talk to him. He wanted to ask what Vegeta was doing to make such rapid gains in his power while he was still stuck at practically the same level he had started at.

"What do you want?" Vegeta asked tiredly when he set aside the empty fruit bowl. He was hungry and wanted to go get more food, but he was tired of the demi-saiyan sitting across from him waiting for him to finish eating. It was putting him on edge.

The question was unexpected as Trunks had expected his father to either ignore him or go get more food. Surely he wasn't finished eating after skipping all meals for two full weeks? He shook his head to rid himself of his wandering thoughts and stared at the table in front of him, unable to make eye contact with his father. Those obsidian eyes put him on edge; they were his most haunting feature. In them he could see rage, hatred, impatience, pain, and death.

"I was wondering," Trunks started weakly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I was wondering how you've been increasing your power so much. I've been training harder than I ever have before and I don't think my power has gone up much at all."

The flame-haired saiyan snorted as he stood up to check out what the pantry had to offer. "You lack discipline."

Trunks sighed with frustration and bit his tongue to keep himself from lashing out at his father verbally. He wanted to tell him that he was training so hard he could hardly make it back to the living quarters to sleep. His body constantly ached, he was forcing his ki as high as he could every day, and he was going through his kata hour after hour, but he still wasn't seeing any changes in his power. He had no idea what he needed to do. Was he stuck at his current level because he was only half saiyan? Maybe only a full-blooded saiyan could ascend beyond the level of super saiyan. He hated to think that; if that were true, he stood no chance against the androids in his time no matter how hard he worked to defeat them.

Judging by the spike in the teenager's ki, Vegeta knew that he struck a nerve by attacking his training discipline. No doubt the boy thought he was doing everything right. Of course he was training hard. He could feel his ki sometimes while he was training. He always had it pushed to its limits and he was constantly trying to force it higher. But that wasn't the right approach. He discovered that for himself when he was trying to make the ascension.

When he returned to the table with a pitcher of water and several loaves of bread, he found Trunks scowling at the table as if it were to blame for his failures. He rolled his eyes and sat down. "If you want to make faster gains in power, then stop training as a super saiyan."

Trunks looked up at him incredulously. "What good will that do?" he blurted out.

Vegeta snarled before taking a long drag of the water. If there was one thing he didn't like, it was someone refusing to take his advice. He didn't give it often, so they should be happy when they got a piece of it. He had years of experience in fighting and training, years more than he should have had. He knew what he was doing.

He set the pitcher of water down on the table and broke one of the loaves of bread in half and shoved one piece into his mouth. When he swallowed, he finally addressed Trunks' question. "When you build a house, what is the first thing you have to do?"

The demi-saiyan shrugged and rapped his fingers against the table. "I guess you build a foundation."

"Exactly."

'At least the boy isn't a complete idiot,' Vegeta thought as he ate the rest of the loaf of bread he started. He wasn't going to say any more, though. If Trunks couldn't figure out what he was telling him by now, it wasn't worth the trouble. Let him keep approaching his training the wrong way. What difference did it make to him? He was growing stronger, and that was all that mattered. If he kept going at the rate he was, he would be strong enough to defeat Cell by the time he left the time chamber. When he was finished eating, he went to the bedroom and curled up in his bed to get a few hours of rest before resuming his training for another indefinite period of time.

Trunks did understand what Vegeta was saying. As soon as the saiyan prince went to sleep, he went back out to train for the rest of the day. He went as far out as he could stand and started training without ascending. It was the first time he hadn't trained as a super saiyan since he initially made the transformation a few years earlier. He always thought it would be a waste of time since it would be his power as a super saiyan that would end the androids' reign of terror. It never occurred to him that increasing his power in his base form would also affect his power as a super saiyan. He felt foolish for never thinking of that before. Not that he could be blamed; no one was alive to guide him. Now he had his father to help him, if only he would.

"It's only been six hours," Gohan groaned as he sat down at the table where Mr. Popo was laying out a feast for his saiyan guests. "How do you think they're doing in there?"

Goku shrugged. "Well, they haven't come out, so they must be doing ok. I hope Vegeta's not being too hard on Trunks."

Gohan frowned. "Knowing Vegeta, he's not even paying any attention to him."

"I doubt that," Goku said, optimistic as ever, "I bet they're getting along great!"

Panting, Trunks lowered himself to the ground on his shaky legs. He wiped his sweaty bangs from his forehead and forced one foot in front of the other toward the living quarters. He spent the past 20 hours straight training and needed food and rest. He didn't know how Vegeta could do it for _days_. He was really pushing himself to go beyond 16 hours. His stomach was growling persistently and his throat was parched. It made training worse than usual when his body was crying out for food and water. But if his father could do it, he could too. He had to.

He'd spent the last three weeks training only in his base form. He could feel his power growing, but he was curious to see how that would affect his power as a super saiyan. He hadn't ascended once since Vegeta told him to train without making the transformation. He doubted he would be anywhere near his father's level yet, but he was eager to see what gains he'd made so far. He didn't have the energy to transform at the moment, though. He needed plenty of food and rest before he would even be willing to try.

'I wonder when father will come back for food,' he thought as he sat down at the table to eat. He hadn't seen him since he gave the advice to train in his base form. It was strange only seeing him every few weeks, knowing he had no food or water or anything out there. How could he survive that long, at least without water? It must be because he was a pureblood saiyan. He didn't know much about his saiyan side, but from the information he gleaned from his mother and Gohan over the years, he figured they were pretty damn tough. But it was thing to know it and another thing entirely to see it.

_He was surrounded by the sweet scent of life. It reminded him of desert flowers blooming at night when the scorching sun was down. The scent permeated the air, infected every cell of his body. Its sweetness was tinged with the tangy, pungent aroma of excitement and desire. He didn't want to open his eyes. Instead, he buried himself deeper in the source of the pleasing scent until he felt intoxicated with it._

_ He didn't want to move. Against him he could feel something cool and velvety smooth. Its curves molded perfectly with the shape of his body as if it were designed to fit with him. His arms were wrapped tightly around it, holding it close to his own body. He didn't want to ever let it go. It brought him comfort like he had never known before. Peace and acceptance were the feelings that invaded his mind when he felt it beside him, rubbing against his calloused, scarred skin. The source of the scent of life._

_ His eyes cracked open and he saw aqua blue. Strange how anything could naturally be that exotic shade of blue, but this was. He moved one hand up the curve of his source of comfort, the source of the scent, and trailed his hand through the silky strands of pure blue. It was so soft and light as his rough fingers easily slid through it. It was beautiful, entrancing. He brought it closer to his face and inhaled deeply. Life._

_ He pushed the silky tresses to the side, revealing ivory skin. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to taste it. He lowered his head until his lips trailed across the smooth skin. He was overwhelmed by the sweet, salty taste. The flavor that so perfectly matched the aroma. It was the taste of life. So delicious, so real. His tongue flicked over the velvety skin and he gently nipped and sucked it, indulging in the addictive flavor._

_ His ears were assaulted by the most beautiful, glorious sound he had ever heard as he continued to taste the cool, comforting skin, deeply inhaling the sweet scent. It was a sound so soft he wasn't sure he heard it, but then it sounded again. Its soft tones ignited a fire inside him. A flame of desire, passion, and need. The flame, now kindled, drove him mad as he couldn't seem to get enough of the wonderful senses. The scent, the taste, the feel, the sight, and the sound. The sound, so soft, so gentle, yet so powerful. It made him feel weak and so strong all at the same time, but more than anything it made him rage inside with the need to protect this thing. This beautiful, perfect thing that he held in his arms._

Vegeta's eyes snapped open and he gasped for air. He felt like his lungs were being crushed as the gravity pulled him down. He was already sprawled across the ground, there was nowhere for the gravity to take him. He groaned as he sat up. Sharp pain exploded through his chest and he was nearly blinded as flashes of light burst in his vision and a dull ache intensified in his head. He raised his hands to his temples and gently rubbed them.

'How long was I out?' he wondered as he forced himself to his feet. He wobbled on his legs and nearly fell over before he regained his balance. He felt so weak. He dared not look down at himself and see what injuries were causing him so much pain all over.

The saiyan prince dragged himself back to the living quarters of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber and went straight for the bedroom, completely ignoring his stomach's protests and the dryness in his mouth and throat. All he wanted was rest. Real rest, not the kind he got when he knocked himself out in his training. Besides, at least when he was asleep he didn't feel so horribly lonely. More than anything, he dreamed of his blue-haired woman. Nightmares, flashbacks, memories, they were all strangely absent as his mind was plagued only with thoughts of Bulma. He was losing his sanity without her. It had been over three months and he was already starting to think he couldn't make it the whole year. Not being the training was too intense or the white void too empty. No, he didn't think he could make it without his woman.

"Kami, Father, what did you do to yourself?"

Vegeta snarled when he heard Trunks yelling after him as he disappeared into the bedroom. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to explain himself. He wanted sleep. He wanted his woman. He shuffled over to his bed and laid down on it, disregarding the pain he felt when he did. He could have one broken rib or twelve, he didn't care.

Trunks followed his father into the bedroom and cringed when he saw the cuts and burns covering his back. Some were still bleeding while others were scabbed over. He approached the bed, not sure how close his father would allow him to come before he was attacked. When he stood at the edge of the bed, he examined the wounds more closely, though he still didn't dare touch them.

"Go away, brat," Vegeta growled.

Trunks frowned. "No. Someone's got to take care of these wounds. And if it isn't going to be you, then it has to be me." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for his stubborn father to argue.

"Just like your mother," the saiyan grumbled, then sighed in resignation. "Fine, get it over with."

The demi-saiyan's jaw dropped. He was glad his father couldn't see his shock because he was sure if he could, he would have immediately changed his mind about letting him treat his injuries. Trunks left and came back a minute later with a damp washcloth and a first aid kit. He sat down on the edge of the bed and started cleaning the cuts and burns with the cloth.

A heavy silence descended upon them, making Trunks feel very uncomfortable. He knew Vegeta wasn't asleep because his muscles were far too tense as if he was readying himself to lash out at him if he did anything wrong. After a few minutes he couldn't stand the silence anymore. He was tired of being with someone but still feel so alone.

"So I've been getting a lot stronger," he ventured to say.

"Hn."

"Training in my base form has helped a lot. I don't know how much stronger I am as a super saiyan, but it's probably a huge difference. So thanks for telling me how to get stronger faster." Taking Vegeta's following silence as an invitation to go on, Trunks continued, "I know I'm not as strong as you. I might never be, but I have to try. I've got to defeat the androids in my own timeline. You have no idea what it's like living there. It's like being trapped in a nightmare. You're always running, always afraid you're going to be killed. All the ones you love are dead and you feel like it's your fault they're gone."

Vegeta only half listened. From the start he was unwilling to hear what his son had to say. How _dare_ he think he couldn't understand such a miserable life? He had no doubt it was awful living in fear of the androids. But at least Trunks wasn't their _slave_. At least he wasn't forced to bow down to them in shame and feign respect. Despite his indignity about Trunks' assumption, he was more enraged that he had to live a life similar to his own. One of uncertainty, filled with death and despair, always feeling hopeless and weak. He was angry that he was killed by the androids and unable to defend his family. Whether or not Trunks was born of an honorable relationship, he was his son!

Vegeta caught himself when that thought crossed his mind. His _son_? Since when did he become a son and not a shameful, bastard child? He quickly dismissed that thought and tried his best to tune out the teenager's story about his destroyed world. He didn't want to hear about his life, a life not so different from his own. It elicited feelings he didn't want to deal with for the time being.

"Boy, are you done yet?"

Trunks sighed as his story was cut off short. He should have known better than to tell his father anything. The man was heartless. He didn't care. He would never give a damn about him. He slapped one more bandage on Vegeta's back, not caring anymore if he hurt him. He was almost pleased when he saw the full-blooded saiyan flinch.

"I'm done."

"Then get out."

Trunks was grinding his teeth by the time he closed the bedroom door behind him. He couldn't figure out why Vegeta had to act so distant all the time. He knew better than to expect him to take on the role of father, but he couldn't help the bitter disappointment he felt when he tried to form _some_ kind of relationship with him. It was as if there was an impenetrable wall around his heart that kept everyone else out. He didn't know if it was because he was a saiyan or if it was only him. He figured it was the latter since Goku seemed perfectly able to care for others. He was a full-blooded saiyan, though he did hit his head when he was a baby. Was that the only reason he was so different from Vegeta? Or was there something else that made them polar opposites? Frustrated as he was, he wanted to learn more about his father.

And so the next three months passed. Trunks rarely even saw Vegeta, for he rarely came back to the living quarters for food or sleep. Whenever he came back he was bloodied and bruised, his body weak from exhaustion, hunger, and thirst. He would eat a large meal and go to bed for a few hours before rising again and going back out into the void to continue his relentless training regimen. Trunks was utterly in awe of his father's discipline and determination, wondering if he would ever be able to reach the same level as him. He pressed on with his own training, though he was questioning daily whether his help would even be needed. Judging by the gains in his father's strength over the months, he was gaining confidence in his ability to take Cell down without anyone's help.

In the rare times he did see his father, Trunks was sometimes able to get him to talk a little. Usually he wouldn't answer more than two questions before he lost patience and pushed him away again, but at least he was getting a little information about him. The more he learned the more his curiosity grew, which only served to irritate the saiyan prince, who was then bombarded with more questions. Trunks couldn't help himself though. He was the son of the two most curious people on the planet.

Annoyed as he was by Trunks' questions, Vegeta couldn't keep denying him answers. If nothing else, he wanted the conversation. He was able to live in seclusion longer than most people, but he had hit his limit. After five months he was lapsing into insanity from time to time during his training. He would lose touch with reality and become so disoriented in time and space that he would sometimes have a hard time remembering the way back to the living quarters. He was afraid he was going to end up lost in the void if he didn't get his mind under control again. He was pining for his woman and even the company of his half-breed son was welcome, though he would never admit it.

Through his short conversations with the teenager, he was surprised at how similar the boy was both to himself and to Bulma. He was very intelligent, insightful, and full of questions. He was stubborn, determined, and pushy, and he hated not getting his way. From his stories of his past, Vegeta learned that he had been training himself for the past five years since his sensei, Gohan, had been killed. He knew more tragedy than most people his age should, something that Vegeta understood well. He was strong-willed and proud. His saiyan side became increasingly evident the more Vegeta was around him. At first Vegeta thought he was more human than saiyan because he always seemed weak, but now he could see he was terribly mistaken in his original assessment of the boy.

Little by little, Trunks started to earn Vegeta's respect, though he didn't know it. On the outside Vegeta was as cold as ever, but inside he was warming up to his son. He never thought of him as a bastard anymore and started to accept him as his own. Deep down he was in awe of him for being able to reach the legendary so early in his life while he had to work for over three decades to make the transformation for the first time. He was impressed with his unwillingness to give up in spite of the androids' far superior power. He felt proud when he saw glimpses of his son's pride. And, over time, he started to feel the same desire to protect him as he did for Bulma. He could never be a father. He never wanted to be a father. But he was unquestionably the father of this powerful young man. If only he could show him how he felt. He knew his gruff attitude hurt the boy. He could see he wanted to make him proud. What he couldn't figure out was how to tell him that he already was proud.

One day, when Vegeta returned for a short rest after going missing for eight days, Trunks gathered the courage to talk to him some more. He sat down at the small table in the kitchen across from the elder prince and folded his hands in his lap and looked around nervously.

"What do you want, boy?" Vegeta slurred through his fatigue and dry throat.

Trunks nervously rubbed the back of his neck and didn't answer immediately. What did he want? He wanted a father who would give him the time of day. Someone who would talk to him, listen to him, encourage him, support him. He sighed and finally fixed his blue eyes on his father's obsidian depths. "I was wondering… why wasn't I born in this timeline?"

There was silence as Vegeta's eyebrow slowly raised, making the boy shift uncomfortably in his seat. He slowly shook his head and raised a glass of water to his dry, cracked lips before answering. "Things are different in this time. I suppose you coming back in time altered the course of events."

That wasn't news. "I can see that," Trunks snapped a little harsher than he intended.

This time both of Vegeta's eyebrows shot up in surprise. It seemed the boy had a backbone after all. Or at least a defiant streak in him. Vegeta smirked mentally but scowled on the outside, anger blazing in his dark orbs. "Then why waste my time asking stupid questions?"

Trunks sighed and rubbed his forehead before sliding his hand across his face as he tried to regain his composure. "What I meant was, what happened with you and mother? Why aren't you together in this timeline?"

Vegeta finished drinking his water and bit into an apple, chewing slowly while considering how to answer, if he decided to answer at all. What right did the boy have to know about his relationship with his woman? They may be his parents in another timeline, but not in this timeline. Even so, he was their son. Sort of. Vegeta continued eating the apple as he thought over his options. Not answer and have the boy upset with him (not that he cared) or answer and have the boy upset with him (not that it mattered). Either way he went he knew Trunks' reaction wouldn't be a good one, so why bother answering at all and revealing more than he wanted to? Because he felt strangely convicted to answer.

"I don't know what happened between us in your timeline," he stated, "but in this timeline, I have not taken the woman as a mate yet. I believed it to be dishonorable to mate with her before facing the androids, since there was the potential I might die. So we decided to wait until the androids were defeated. We will mate after Cell is dead."

"Your mate?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and exhaled slowly. He felt he had answered enough questions for one day, but he couldn't leave this one hanging in the air. "Yes, boy, my mate. The woman I have chosen to be with for the rest of my life. In human terms: my wife."

Trunks nearly fell out of his seat. His father and mother, getting _married?_ That was something he never would have expected. His own mother said that their relationship was a short-lived passion ordeal during which he was conceived. Whatever kind of relationship they had ended shortly after his birth. Never in a million years would he have guessed his parents would be willing to commit to each other for _life_. Things changed more than he first thought when he came back in time to warn them about the androids.

"You're getting married?" he blurted out, not able to hide the shock in his voice.

The full-blooded saiyan cringed at the human word for mating but nodded slightly. He was sure the interrogation would be over now. What more could the boy possibly want to know? His curiosity should be satisfied. Little did he know that he had only managed to fill Trunks' head with more questions that he craved answers to.

The teenager opened his mouth to ask another question, but he stopped himself when he saw the glare his father gave him and heard the low, short warning growl. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Vegeta's tail twitching angrily. Now probably wouldn't be the best time to ask any more questions, he figured. Maybe, before asking more personal questions, it would be a good idea to build better rapport with the irritable saiyan. Give it some time and wait for a better opportunity when Vegeta wasn't so tired and cranky. Or at least not so tired. Trunks wasn't sure his father was _ever_ not cranky.

A week after his talk with Vegeta, Trunks' mind was still reeling with the news that his father intended to marry his mother. It filled him with a warm feeling similar to pride. Yes, pride. He was proud of his parents for putting their differences aside and committing to one another. He knew that his mother, in his timeline, was still in love with Vegeta despite him being dead for over fifteen years. He could see an undying love in her eyes when she spoke of him, no matter how harshly. Knowing that, in this time, they would be together forever made him happy. He hadn't been born, but at least his parents would be together. Maybe they would have other children. It felt strange to think about having brothers and sisters he would never know.

As his pride in his father swelled, Trunks dove into his training harder than ever before in his life. He was desperate to prove to Vegeta that he was worthy to be his son. Desperate to prove he was a true warrior, living up to his saiyan heritage. He wanted to become stronger so he could defeat the androids – and Cell – in his own timeline when he returned. He would show his mother what his father taught him: the rewards of hard work. He had never been a slacker in his training, but he never gained strength as rapidly as he did now either. Having his father present was the best incentive he'd ever had to gain power. Even better than the need to destroy the androids. Better than the need to become like his mentor, Gohan.

Despite his growing power, Trunks had a harder time sensing Vegeta every day. He knew this wasn't because Vegeta was training at a lower level, but rather, he was training farther and farther away every day. Sometimes he worried that Vegeta would wander so far away he wouldn't be able to find his way back. But he pushed those thoughts aside, knowing Vegeta would never be foolish enough to get lost in the white oblivion. Each day he moved further away from the living quarters as well. The conditions were intense, but he was learning to work under them and grow substantially. He was now able to make the leap in power to an ascended saiyan that his father was able to attain months ago. He had no hope of catching up to Vegeta, but he would at least be strong enough to be some use in a fight if needed.

What Trunks didn't know was that he actually was surpassing Vegeta. After another month of intensive training, Trunks reached the stage of ultimate super saiyan. Realizing his amazing power, he focused on building his strength in that form, paying little – if any – attention to the decrease in his speed. It had been over half a year but Trunks was surprised at the new level of power he had reached, never having thought it possible before to exceed super saiyan. That, he learned early on, was the pinnacle of a saiyan's power. Apparently that wasn't so. He could only thank his father for daring to believe there were levels beyond that were attainable.

After nine months, both Vegeta and Trunks had reached a plateau neither could go beyond. Still, Vegeta would not permit them to leave the time chamber until the full year was over. He was not interested in Trunks' training; they never worked together, never sparred, never asked how the other was doing. They trained in solitude so far from one another that neither had any idea about how strong the other was. Vegeta decided for the both of them that, even if they couldn't get much stronger in the time remaining, they could at least learn to better control the power they did have. So he ignored his ever-growing desire to leave the chamber and return to Earth where he could kill Cell and be with Bulma at last.

Trunks was still oblivious to just how much his father missed Bulma. Vegeta was very adept at hiding his feelings even when they were driving him to the brink of madness. Not that he was unfamiliar with insanity. If anything, his familiarity with it made him better able to hide it from others. He would go to train and sometimes become so distracted by his thoughts of his blue-haired woman that he wouldn't actually train for hours at a time. He was glad that Trunks was far enough away not to notice his lapses in both mental and physical discipline.

When Vegeta took the time to sleep he would often wake up with a start because of the intensity of his longing for her burning in his chest. The more he tried to rid his mind of her, the more thoughts of her he would have. It was frustrating him, and yet it was added motivation for him to work harder in his training. The depth of his need for her was finally being realized. Where he may have denied _needing_ her before, now there was no doubt in his mind. He simply couldn't live without her. And strangely, surprisingly, he didn't see that as a weakness. Did he love her? He didn't know if he would call it love. Obsession? Maybe. Desire? Yes. Dependence? He shook his head at the thought. He never depended on anyone before, he didn't think now was a time to start. Yet he already did depend on her, didn't he? It dawned on him, finally, that love, dependence, whatever, was not for a weak man. It was for a man strong enough to afford a weakness. A weakness that was also a strength. His reason to live and to fight. His reason to push himself and attain new levels of power. His reason to be.

At times Trunks did manage to get a short glimpse of how much his father cared for his mother. He could see it sometimes when he would ask a question about her or about their relationship. He could see the way his father's eyes would light up or gloss over as he thought about the beautiful blue-haired genius. He could tell that behind Vegeta's stoic, arrogant mask he had a soft spot for the woman. What he could have seen, had he bothered looking for it, was a similar soft spot for himself.

"We have three days left here, boy," Vegeta announced as he finished his breakfast. There was no night or day in the time chamber, but the hour glasses dictated their time.

Trunks looked up from his own meal and glanced at the tall hour glasses. Indeed, there was little sand left in the top. He had been so busy training lately he hardly noticed the passing of time. He nodded and looked back to where Vegeta had stood up.

Vegeta seemed to be thinking about something before he finally opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out at first, but finally, he muttered, "We should probably rest for that time." Without another word he turned and went back to the bedroom and laid down.

"Rest?" Trunks asked, though no one was there to answer. After a whole year with the proud saiyan prince, he heard for the first time the suggestion to rest instead of train. He shook his head in disbelief before finishing his breakfast.

Trunks soon found that resting in the hyperbolic time chamber was not as relaxing as he originally thought it would be. After only an hour he was already bored. There was absolutely nothing to do besides train. There were no books to read, no TV to watch, no games to play, and no companion to talk to – except Vegeta, but he wasn't the conversational type. His body, so used to constantly being pushed past its limits physically, was itching to go back out and train until he lacked the strength to stand. But he dared not go train when Vegeta told him to rest instead. If nothing else, he learned to trust his father's advice.

Still feeling antsy, Trunks decided to go lie down and have a nap. He couldn't deny needing more rest. While he did sleep more than Vegeta did, he still cut his sleep short in order to get more hours of training in each day. He peeled off his armor and got into bed, hoping he would be able to get at least a few minutes of sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. He spent over an hour tossing and turning to get comfortable, but he was too wound up to rest. His body was practically begging for some physical activity. He sighed and got out of bed. If nothing else he could just eat again.

Whereas Trunks was unable to sleep, Vegeta couldn't stay awake. Part of the reason – no, most of the reason – he suggested rest was that he simply couldn't train another day. His body was absolutely exhausted. It was painful putting one foot in front of the other to walk anywhere. His muscles throbbed in pain from the amount of ki he forced into them over the past months. His lack of sleep had caught up to him and there was no way he could fight it anymore. He needed rest more than he ever needed it before in his life. He really didn't care if Trunks wanted to keep training. He couldn't. And he wouldn't. He knew the value of rest, even if he ignored it most of the time. He would rest until he left the time chamber, and then he would be refreshed and ready to engage in the ultimate battle with Cell.

Trunks was in utter disbelief when, on the second day, Vegeta had not roused from sleep. He was almost tempted to check and make sure he was still alive. He was still fighting the urge to train when Vegeta got up for a meal, then promptly went back to bed. The next day passed in much the same way. Vegeta slept almost straight through the whole three days, only getting up a few times for some nourishment. When the third day was drawing to a close and he still wasn't up, Trunks decided he would have to wake him up so they could leave the time chamber. He didn't know what would happen if they stayed for over a year, so he reluctantly went into the bedroom to wake the sleeping prince.

After a short struggle, a string of alien curses, and endless grumbling, Vegeta was finally awake. Trunks came out of the scuffle with hardly any damage, but he vowed to himself to never, _never_ wake Vegeta up before he was good and ready to wake up. After putting their armor back on, Vegeta and Trunks marched to the door between dimensions with heads held high. Their year of training was complete and it was time to fight.

_A/N: Obviously I did decide to make it one chapter instead of two. I wanted to extend it more and make the second half of the year more in-depth in its own chapter, but this is my last update before my classes start again, so the next chapter might not be up right away. If that is the case, I don't want to leave you hanging in the middle of the year. Besides, I think this chapter did an adequate job of explaining some things and developing the relationship between Vegeta and Trunks. Now leave me reviews!_

_Song: "The Reason" by Hoobastank_


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

_With the venomous kiss you gave me  
I'm killing loneliness  
(Killing loneliness)  
With the warmth of your arms you saved me_

Gathered around the door to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber was a small group of warriors. One full-blooded saiyan, a young demi-saiyan, and a Namekian. Each attentively watched the ornate wooden door in eager anticipation to see the progress made by the two who spent an entire year in the past day in the chamber. They could hear noises coming from within and knew it wouldn't be long before they emerged.

Finally, the door opened and the band of warriors' senses were assaulted with the power that seemed to emanate from the flame-haired saiyan and his half-breed son as they exited the time chamber. Even though neither of them was ascended, the increase in their power was unmistakable.

"Hey guys!" Goku cheerfully greeted the saiyan princes, "How'd your training go? Did you reach a new level?"

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the fact that he just woke up and still felt incredible physical exhaustion after training for almost a year straight. "Let's just say it would be a waste of time for you and your brat to train in there. I can defeat Cell without any assistance."

Piccolo rolled his eyes at the typical response from the saiyan prince, but he couldn't deny the awe he felt at his power. It was astounding. If he had this much strength in his base form, it was hard to imagine how strong he must be as a super saiyan. And beyond? Unreal. Rather than praising the arrogant saiyan, he merely grunted and looked expectantly at Trunks for a more detailed narrative of the success of their training.

The lavender-haired teenager was reluctant to meet the Namekian's gaze. His father told him before they came out that their training was confidential. Though they hadn't trained together, Vegeta knew his son had reached a new level of power that he didn't want the third-class clown and his spawn to reach with 'inside' information. And so Trunks blushed slightly under the curious gazes from all the others and stammered an incoherent response.

Gohan didn't seem to notice his discomfort as he asked, "How was it, spending a whole year with Vegeta?"

"Uh…" Trunks looked from Vegeta to Gohan and back again, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Grueling." That seemed like a safe enough answer.

Vegeta snorted and walked away from the small group. He was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to show weakness in front of the others. His armor, which had been in almost perfect condition before he went into the chamber, was now a ragged mess. His bodysuit was torn and tattered and his breastplate was cracked, broken, and charred. Though he felt like collapsing in his fatigue, he forced himself to hold his chin high with back ramrod straight. Before leaving the Lookout, he had one question to ask.

"Has Cell announced when his damned tournament is going to be?"

Trunks frowned when he heard the tired tone in Vegeta's voice. He was hiding it well, but after spending so much time with him – at least relative to the others – he knew when his father wasn't quite up to speed. He looked at the others to see if they noticed as well, but they gave no indication of any concern for Vegeta. He didn't know if that was because they really hadn't noticed or if they simply didn't care. He decided to assume it was the former.

In answer to Vegeta's question, Goku slowly shook his head with a frustrated expression. He hadn't gotten a chance to fight the android yet, but he already hated him. He hated him for all the innocent lives he took to gain power and he hated him for threatening the whole planet. Most of all, he hated him for being so strong it seemed no one had a chance of beating him.

Vegeta nodded curtly and walked proudly to the edge of the Lookout, his gaze moving over the clear horizon. Up here, so far above the Earth's surface, above the clouds, it was quiet and peaceful. Up here, it was easy to forget how much trouble there was down below. He sighed and leaned forward until he fell off the edge of the Lookout in a free fall. He closed his eyes and held his arms at his sides as he fell, relishing the feeling of the cool air whipping around him. He unwound his tail from his waist and let it loosely trail after him. For the first time in a year he felt the sun's warmth beating against his back and smelled fresh air. It was invigorating.

He thrust his ki under him at the last second before hitting the ground and swooped back up into the air, heading west back to the Capsule Corp compound. There he knew he could get some much-needed rest, plenty of food, and the comfort of his woman. Eager to get to his destination, he flared his ki and sped even faster to get back to the city. It had been much too long for his liking since he had seen a certain blue-haired woman.

Trunks watched his father's departure with some anxiety. Sure as he was back in the time chamber that he would have a chance against Cell, being back in the 'real world' had him reconsidering. Yet his father seemed unfazed by it and still thought he had become powerful enough to defeat Cell single-handedly. It was absurd. Wasn't it?

"You should go after him," Goku suggested, "Make sure he doesn't get into trouble."

The teenager looked over his shoulder at the tailless saiyan and furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know what he was talking about. Vegeta could take care of himself. "He's just going back to Capsule Corp."

Goku sighed and made eye contact with the boy. "I mean, keep him away from Cell. Keep your eyes open for news on when the tournament is. Gohan and I will go train in the time chamber for the next 24 hours. We want to be as much help as possible when the time comes to fight."

Trunks' lips twitched in a small smile that quickly disappeared. "I don't know how strong you think I am, Goku, but I don't think I'd be able to stop my father if he decided to go fight Cell before the tournament." Under different circumstances the truth of that statement may have been humorous. Vegeta's infamous stubbornness and pride made for a good laugh sometimes. But knowing the potential consequences of him acting rashly and going after the android with no backup took all humor out of the situation. So with a sigh of resignation, Trunks bid the warriors goodbye and took off after his father.

When Vegeta reached the large domed building, he dropped down to the ground and practically ran inside to find Bulma, not even bothering to try not looking too eager. As soon as the front door was slammed behind him he roared, "Woman, where are you?"

The only woman that came into view was the crazy blonde woman when she came out of the kitchen to see what all the ruckus was about. "Oh, Mr. Vegeta! There you are! Bulma's down in her lab. I'm sure she wouldn't mind a nice visit…"

As soon as he got the information he wanted, Vegeta tuned the woman's blabbering out and headed straight for the door to Bulma's lab. Not wasting any time, he blew the door off its hinges and leaped over the rail and landed right behind an extremely startled and angry blue-haired scientist. Before she could turn around and start screaming at him he wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her against him with his head resting on her shoulder.

"Vegeta?" Bulma gasped out. "Where have you been? What's going on?" The broken door was completely forgotten as soon as she felt his warmth pressed against her back.

"I've trained for a year in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber," he muttered into her neck. She shivered when his hot breath danced across her skin. Bulma nodded and rested her hands on his, happy to let him hold her. Now she understood why he couldn't take the time to properly open the door. He just lived a whole year without her. She was flattered more than anything that he was in such a hurry to get to her that he was willing to suffer her wrath for breaking into her lab.

Vegeta spun her around and ripped his ragged gloves off before running his fingers through her long, silky hair as he pressed his lips hungrily against hers. Bulma willingly kissed back, parting her lips to allow his tongue entrance into her mouth, an offer he eagerly accepted. Vegeta felt like his body was on fire when he heard her soft moaning and felt her pushing her small body against his. Slowly, he backed her up until she was pressed against the wall, then lifted her. Bulma instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned again when she felt him grinding his hips against her.

She arched her back when his hands started roaming over her body, down her arms, up her sides, across her breasts, down her belly, and to rest at her hips. She could feel his excitement pressing against her inner thigh and nearly melted with desire. Forget honor, she wanted him in that moment. She ran her hands through his feathery mane as he pulled back and dipped his head down to her neck and started nipping gently.

Trunks landed outside the compound and looked up at the massive structure. The building was in perfect condition, never having seen the destruction of the world. A pang of jealousy coursed through his veins before he got it under control. Of course it hadn't seen destruction. Not yet, anyway. They had to defeat Cell to make sure it never would. He rolled his shoulders back and walked into the compound, feeling less at ease than he would have liked. In one way, this was his home. But in every other way it wasn't.

He decided he should ask his mother if she'd heard anything about the tournament yet. She probably kept an eye on the news while they were away. Considering the time of day, he made the reasonable assumption that she was in her lab working on some project or another. He didn't bother sensing anyone's ki. He strolled through the halls until he came to where her lab was, but he was shocked to see the door completely destroyed. Panic reared its ugly head as he ran to see what happened.

"Mother! Are you ok?" he shouted before skidding to a halt halfway down the stairs.

Trunks froze in place when he caught sight of his parents. What he saw was rather unexpected. And disgusting. Definitely traumatizing. He gagged before turning away, covering his eyes with his hands.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, boy?" came a gruff voice.

Bulma allowed her legs to slide down until she was standing on her own feet between the wall and Vegeta. She felt her face flushing a brilliant shade of red, which she desperately tried to hide in Vegeta's shoulder. She could hear the low rumblings of the beginning of a ferocious growl and caught a glimpse of a furry brown appendage swinging around in angry humiliation.

Trunks cleared his throat and squeaked out his answer. "Just wanted to see if Mom heard anything about Cell's tournament."

Bulma shook her head even though she was sure her alternate timeline son probably couldn't see her. Despite her silent protest, Vegeta pulled back from her and turned around to face away from her, his arms crossing defensively across his chest. She watched his tail wrap snugly around his waist and sighed. 'Way to ruin the mood, kid,' she thought, somewhat bitterly.

Realizing what he'd done, Trunks skulked out of the lab. If he'd had a tail it would have been tucked between his legs. Seeing him leave, Vegeta let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. Add that as a reason he never wanted offspring. "I need new armor, Woman," he grumbled before leaving the lab to go back to his bedroom for more sleep.

"Damnit!" she screamed when both saiyans were gone. She kicked her chair angrily across the room and blew some loose strands of hair out of her face. She couldn't blame either of them for their behavior, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

Vegeta winced when he heard her outburst as he made his way upstairs to his room. He was, in a way, relieved that Trunks interrupted them. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop himself that time. Still, his short time with her hadn't satisfied his need for her and now he was separating himself from her again. The longing only increased tenfold with each step he took away from her. By the time he collapsed in his nest he could hardly stand it.

Growling, he threw off his armor, boots, and bodysuit before pulling a blanket over himself. Angry as he was, it wasn't enough to keep him awake long. Only a few minutes passed with him seething in rage before sleep overtook him.

Trunks had never been so embarrassed in his life. His face was as bright red as Bulma's by the time he left the lab. He scurried down the hall and went into the living room where he flipped the TV on and turned to a major news station, hoping to hear some word on the tournament. He heard his father going upstairs and sighed in relief when he didn't hunt him down to beat the tar out of him for interrupting his… intimate moment with Bulma.

Hours passed with Vegeta sleeping, Bulma working, and Trunks watching the news. None of them made any effort to go see the others after their incredibly awkward moment in the lab. Each had pride to rival the others' and no one wanted to be the one to initiate a conversation after that.

'Maybe I could do more training,' Trunks thought as he got up off the couch for a snack. After watching the news nonstop for five hours he was ready to stretch out and move around. He spent a year training, it was hard to stay at rest now. He sighed and shuffled into the kitchen for some food.

He grabbed a loaf of bread and started making a tall stack of sandwiches. It still felt strange to him, being in his home that wasn't really his home. He had a nagging feeling that he was taking what wasn't his by eating the food there. He shook his head and picked up his plate on his way out of the kitchen to go back to the living room to continue watching the news. He hoped something interesting would happen in the world, even if it wasn't related to Cell, so that he would at least have something entertaining to watch. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a slow news day.

Bulma finally came out of her lab when it was about dinner time. She could smell the food cooking, which made her mouth start watering before she was anywhere near the kitchen. She silently thanked the gods that her mother was such an outstanding cook as she walked into the kitchen. She was floored when she saw the amount of food laid out on the table. It was more than she had ever seen before, at least when they were expecting fewer than 200 guests. Then again, they were feeding one and half saiyans. Super saiyans at that.

"Mom?"

Mrs. Brief emerged from behind a pile of eggrolls and smiled brightly when she saw her daughter. "There you are, honey! Would you mind telling the boys that dinner is almost ready? I'm sure they're starving."

Bulma shook her head in wonder as she left the kitchen to go find the saiyans. She heard the TV when she passed by the living room, so she poked her head in to see if anyone was there. She saw Trunks lying on the couch a trickle of drool running down his cheek, the remote control held protectively on his chest. She giggled and walked over to him and gently stroked his long lavender hair. Wait, since when did he have long hair?

"Trunks? Trunks, wake up," she called softly. "Trunks!"

"Hm? What?" he murmured as he slowly opened his eyes and looked up into the brilliant blue eyes of his mother. She looked so young. "Mom?"

It still threw Bulma off when the teenager referred to her as his mother. She learned that he was her son in his timeline when he returned to tell her about Cell's completion. Her and Vegeta's son. But it was strange to have a young man she hardly even knew calling her Mom. Even so, she couldn't deny the maternal instinct that kicked in when she learned he was her son. Sort of. She felt an explosion of love swelling in her chest for him and knew then that she would die for him. She felt so protective over him it hurt.

"Trunks, dinner is almost ready. You should get in there before Vegeta eats everything."

He sat up and nodded, wiping the drool off his face with the back of his hand. In a flash he was up and running to the kitchen. Bulma giggled again when she saw him run off, knowing it was because she told him he might not get anything to eat. Saiyans were so predictable when it came to food. Now she just needed to get Vegeta to come to dinner.

The gravity room seemed like the most obvious place to look to find the saiyan prince. After all, as long as she had known him he was preoccupied with training. But as she approached the gravity room, she noticed the absence of the humming sound of the gravity simulator running. She stopped and cocked her head to the side as she thought about where he might be if he wasn't in there. Where else would he have gone after they were interrupted earlier? She frowned when she thought he might have been angry enough to leave the compound. But she wanted to make sure. She knew a saiyan missing his meal was not a pretty sight.

Since she was nearby, she went down the hall to the library and opened the large doors and flicked the lights on. She looked around a little, but after not finding him she assumed he wasn't there. Sighing, she ran back down the hall and out the back door to see if he was training in the back yard. But the yard was deserted.

"Why am I always the one looking for _him?_ I wish I could sense his energy so I could find him as easily as he finds me," she grumbled to herself as she went back inside and took a right turn to go upstairs.

She stopped in front of the door to Vegeta's room and hesitated. What were the chances he would be in there? She couldn't hear the shower, and Vegeta never slept during the day. He hardly slept at night, for that matter. Shaking her head, she went on down the hall to the recreation room. Maybe he got bored and went to play some pool.

Bulma opened the door and went inside, but there was no sign of the saiyan. She walked out onto the balcony and then around the couch, but he was nowhere to be found. Her stomach growled as she closed the door behind her. She'd already wasted several minutes looking for Vegeta. Meanwhile, dinner was getting cold. She scowled and stomped down the hallway and barged into Vegeta's room, figuring if he wasn't anywhere else, he'd be in there.

"Vegeta?" she called as she walked into his room. "Hey, you in here?" She heard a soft rumbling sound and went around the bed so she could see the saiyan's nest. She smiled warmly when she saw the saiyan-shaped lump under a blanket with a black flame of hair poking out. She knelt down next to him and pulled the blanket down until she could see his bare chest.

He murmured something unintelligible and turned onto his side away from her, his tail swinging out and nearly hitting her. It curled behind him and thumped slowly against the floor. "Vegeta," she called louder, "Get up. It's time for dinner."

The rumbling sound persisted, and she finally recognized it as his purr-like snore. She sighed in exasperation and tentatively poked his back, quickly withdrawing her arm lest he snap and grab her wrist and nearly break it again. He didn't even flinch. Feeling braver, she rested her hand on his shoulder and shook gently while calling his name.

"Come on, you jerk," she snarled, getting a little tired of trying to wake him up. "Get up!" In one smooth move Vegeta rolled over and grabbed her around the waist, dragging her down next to him. He buried his face in her hair and continued sleeping. "Vegeta!" she shrieked, beating her fists against his chest.

He was squeezing her too tight for her comfort. She felt his tail wrapping possessively around her thigh. She took a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could, "Vegeta, wake up!"

Immediately his eyes snapped open and he gasped when he saw that he was holding Bulma. He let her go and pushed her away gently and shook his head to rid himself of the sleepy haze still hanging in his mind. He flipped over onto his stomach and yawned as he stretched, arching his back like a giant cat. The blanket dropped off him, revealing his perfectly chiseled –and naked – body to Bulma.

She couldn't help her eyes roaming over him before she ripped her gaze away, a deep blush spreading across her face. Vegeta rested back on his knees and finally seemed to notice he wasn't wearing boxers as he usually did. He blushed as deeply as Bulma as he pulled the blanket around his hips and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What are you doing here, Woman?" he sighed.

Bulma turned back to face him and scowled. "I'm here to tell you dinner is ready, you big jerk! You didn't have to crush the life out of me."

His eyes widened when he heard there was food ready. While he hadn't starved while in the time chamber, the cooking certainly hadn't been the best. He wasn't a chef, by any means, and neither was Trunks. He sniffed the air and caught the scent of all his favorite foods waiting for him to come and devour them.

Quicker than the eye could see, he leaped to his feet and pulled on a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a t-shirt. He ran out of his room and downstairs to the kitchen and sat at the table where there was an enormous feast laid out before him. Without waiting for anyone else to join in, he started piling food onto his plate and digging into it with true saiyan fervor. Trunks, who was sitting across from him, looked on in shock as Vegeta consumed more food than was possible even for him. He knew he got his appetite from his father's side, but this was ridiculous.

A couple minutes later Bulma joined them at the table, looking a bit irritated with the saiyan prince for leaving her upstairs and starting the meal before she even got to the kitchen. She slumped down in her chair across from the prince and started helping herself, signaling to her parents and son that it was time to start eating. She hadn't even noticed they weren't eating yet. She ate slowly, watching Vegeta as he packed away his dinner. She couldn't remember him eating so voraciously since he first came to stay at Capsule Corp and finally learned to trust them enough to eat without hesitation. At that point, he was worse than a black hole when he ate. She later learned it was because he was so malnourished as a soldier in Frieza's army. He was thin at that time, but she thought it was just because he was lean from his work. Turns out he was half starved, and when he started eating as much as he needed regularly, he filled out quite well.

"Didn't you eat while you were in the time chamber?" she finally asked.

When he didn't answer, Trunks decided to answer for him. He swallowed his mouthful of grilled fish and told her, "He only ate every few days while we were in there."

Vegeta slammed his hands down on the table and glared at his son. His lip curled in a snarl. "I told you not to speak at all of our training!" he snapped.

"What's the big deal, Vegeta?" Bulma asked. "It's not like he told me anything I wouldn't have guessed anyway." She rolled her eyes and took another bite of an eggroll. "And anyway, why weren't you eating, mister? You know you need food to sustain your body when you're training so hard all the time! What is it with you starving yourself anyway? It's like you just want to kill yourself, not get stronger. Honestly, I don't understand you."

Vegeta's eye twitched a little as she continued on her rant about his behavior. He didn't really care what she thought about how well he took care of himself. He'd been doing it his entire life and it hadn't killed him yet. It almost did a few times, but it hadn't, so why worry about it? He shook his head as her rambling went on and on, finally tuning her out so he could focus on his meal instead.

Trunks had to hold back laughter as he watched his parents. It was unbelievably funny how she would attack him verbally, clearly annoying him, but he would shrug it off and stop listening despite the almost unbearable volume of her voice. She didn't even seem to notice how he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. If he didn't know better, he would guess that this was an everyday occurrence, and based on how his grandparents were ignoring their daughter's tirade, his suspicions were confirmed. He snickered a little as he refilled his plate.

Long after everyone else finished, Vegeta finally sighed contentedly and pushed his plates away. He rose from his seat and wrapped his tail loosely around his waist, then turned and walked out of the kitchen while Mrs. Brief got up and started clearing off the table. There was hardly any food left over, which came as a surprise to everyone. Sure, they knew saiyans ate a lot, but even Mrs. Brief thought she may have prepared _too_ much.

Bulma got up after the saiyan left and went after him. She caught sight of him disappearing upstairs and ran to catch up. When she reached the top of the stairs she heard the door to his room shutting behind him. 'What is he doing? He's been sleeping all day.'

She hurried over to his room and opened the door quietly and slipped into the dark room. "'Geta? What're you doing? You've been in here all day."

A dark silhouette moved in front of the balcony doors and slid them open, then walked out into the cool night air. There was a pink tinge of daylight left low in the sky. Vegeta hopped onto the rail and sat leaning against the wall, one leg dangling over the side. He knew Bulma was going to follow him, which was why he didn't bother answering her. And sure enough, a moment later she walked out onto the balcony and came over to where he was sitting.

"Hey, you alright?" she asked, nudging him with her shoulder.

Vegeta closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Was he alright? He'd been resting for days and he still felt exhausted. His body dragged and he had to fight to hide it for the sake of his pride. His power was greater than ever before, but it still wasn't enough to beat Cell, though he wouldn't admit that aloud to anyone. He wanted to sleep, not fight, but he had to defeat Cell to gain revenge for his humiliation and protect his chosen mate. Finally, he looked over to Bulma and forced a smirk.

"Of course I'm alright, Woman."

Bulma put her arms around his neck and allowed him to pull her onto his lap. "You sure? I think if you were fine you'd be training."

"A warrior knows when it is better to rest," he drawled, one hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. He longed to feel her, every inch of her. He coiled his tail around her thigh and pulled her against his chest. Her body felt so good pressed up against his.

She nodded and nuzzled into his chest. She moved her hands down his sides and snaked them under his shirt and traced the hard muscles of his back with her fingers. "Not that you always do it," she reminded him.

He snorted, but he couldn't disagree. Resting was certainly not his favorite thing to do. He was notorious for putting it off until he had little choice in the matter. Now it seemed that his body couldn't get enough of it. Perhaps he should have taken more breaks during the year he spent training. Now his body was trying desperately to make up for an entire year without rest, and it was aggravating him to no end. He didn't want to feel so tired. He would rather be training, as the woman said. But there was no way he could get his body to cooperate.

They were silent for a few minutes, which Vegeta wasn't going to complain about. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking he would just relax. But relaxing turned into sleeping. Bulma noticed his slowing in breathing and the grip around her waist loosened until she was sure she would fall off the rail if she moved too much. Soon she heard the soft rumbling snore and knew he was asleep again.

'Vegeta, what's wrong with you? You never sleep this much, no matter how hard you train. I'm starting to think maybe there _is_ something the matter even if you're not aware of it.' Bulma knit her brows as she studied the saiyan's face, looking for signs of illness or any other kind of problem. But all she could see was fatigue. Maybe that really was all that was going on. He overworked himself for a whole year and now his body was making up for lost time in rest.

Slowly, Bulma got off the saiyan's lap and went back inside so as not to disturb him. She wasn't afraid of him falling off the rail. Even if he did move around that much, he would surely wake up before hitting the ground and getting hurt. She had hoped to continue where they left off earlier, but that obviously wasn't going to happen, so with a half-hearted shrug she went back downstairs to the living room where she heard the TV again. Trunks must still be watching the news, waiting for any information about Cell's tournament.

She went in and found Trunks lying on the couch with his eyes glued to the TV just as she expected. When he saw her he moved his legs and sat up so she could sit next to him. He felt nervous around her; she was his mother, but not really, and he didn't know how to act around her. Should he call her Mother or Bulma? Should he treat her like his mother or like an acquaintance? He pushed his questions to the back of his mind and turned back to the news.

"Heard anything about Cell yet?" she asked as she sat down.

Trunks shook his head and started wringing his hands in his lap. He was nervous about the tournament. He knew he had grown in strength, and he knew that Vegeta grew even more. But he didn't think it was enough. He was counting on Goku and Gohan to make more progress in their time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. But what if they couldn't get strong enough either? He would hate to see this world destroyed like his was. It didn't matter if it was the work of one monstrous android or two androids. It's all the same. Total destruction, people hiding in fear, billions of innocent lives lost for no reason. He clenched his fists and fought back the bile that was rising in his throat.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong?" Bulma reached over and grabbed her son's hand and squeezed gently. She could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't seem to be the type to open up and spill it. He was so much like his father in many ways, even if he didn't grow up knowing him. That made her smile a little.

Trunks looked up at her, a feeling of familiarity washing over him. That's exactly what his mother in his timeline would have asked when she saw how distressed he was. His lips quirked up in a small smile and he shook his head. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Don't give me that crap. I can see something's up, so just tell me," Bulma ordered firmly. As if she was going to believe the son of Vegeta when he said nothing was wrong.

The youth sighed and turned away from his young mother. "I'm worried we won't have what it takes to defeat Cell."

Had he been facing Bulma, he might have seen the glimmer of unshed tears welling up in her eyes and the way her lip trembled. He just confirmed her deepest fear that things wouldn't be so different from his timeline after all. Only he knew how strong Vegeta had become – or how strong he was, for that matter – and he still wasn't confident in their ability to destroy Cell once and for all. He didn't mention Goku and Gohan, but then they weren't finished training either. The idea of losing Vegeta was more than she could stand to think about. It caused a painful empty feeling to spread through her body.

"You really don't think you do?" she whispered.

The boy slowly shook his head and heaved a deep sigh from the core of his being. After trying so hard to save this world, it looked as hopeless as the one he left. He felt the stirrings of anger in his chest when he thought about how his father had the power to destroy the androids before but chose not to. Despite all the warnings he'd given, they were ignored. Why? Why didn't Vegeta kill them? Why did he let them go so Cell could find them and absorb them? He ran his hands through his long hair as he tried to regain control of his emotions.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Bulma rubbed his shoulder and told him, "This isn't Vegeta's fault, you know. He did what he thought was right at the time, and I'm proud of him for it. He didn't kill the androids because he didn't see them as a threat to this planet. Not too long ago he would have killed them anyway; he wouldn't have even needed a reason. But he's not like that anymore. His honor stopped him from destroying them. I can't be mad at him for that. And you shouldn't be either."

"Honor?" Trunks growled, "What honor is there in letting the beings go who had the potential to wipe out human existence? What honor was there in letting them leave here so Cell could have them? He's a fool!"

Bulma glared at him for a moment before raising her hand and slapping him with all the strength she could muster. "Trunks! I don't know how I raised you in the future, but you will never talk about your father that way. He is _not_ a fool. He is a man of honor." She didn't approve of Vegeta's choice to let the androids leave Capsule Corporation when she warned him that they were going and could be absorbed by Cell, but that was in the past. What was done was done and now they had to deal with it as best they could.

Trunks looked back at Bulma with an expression of shock and hurt as he raised his hand to touch the red handprint on his cheek. He winced at the surprising amount of pain it caused. He forced back the lump in his throat as he mumbled an apology.

His mother had never hit him before. Granted even if she had, it wouldn't have ever been enough to really hurt him, which may have been why she never bothered. He was startled when Bulma raised her hand against him. He didn't miss the blaze of fury that flashed in her eyes when he insulted Vegeta. But it wasn't blind fury, it was the kind that accompanies betrayal. Guilt tugged at his heart as he tried to ease the stinging in his cheek.

'Honestly,' Bulma thought angrily, 'Even his son doesn't understand him! They all think he's just a proud, arrogant hot-head. Well, maybe he is, but there's more to it than that. I'm so tired of being the only one who can see that.' She shook her head and forced herself to not feel remorse for her action even though she could see Trunks was as hurt as she was.

An uncomfortable silence descended on them, the only sound the barely audible news on television. Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with her son. He was facing away from her anyway, wanting to hide the tears in his eyes. Physical pain he could tolerate, but he never felt so childish before in his life. It was terribly humiliating. His pride ached.

Finally, he spoke up when he couldn't stand the quiet any longer. "I know he's not a fool. I'm just so frustrated with what's going on. I feel like part of this is all my fault to begin with because Cell used my time machine to get here."

Bulma's heart immediately softened when she heard her son's confession. "Trunks, you can't help what happened in the future. If you hadn't used the time machine in the first place, we'd probably all be dead now anyway. You did good. Even though it looks hopeless now, we still have a fighting chance we never would have had without your warning three years ago."

"I only hope it's enough," he said.

She exhaled slowly and scooted over closer to him so she could hug him. She didn't want her son feeling so depressed, and she didn't want him feeling like he was to blame for what happened. "It'll be enough, don't you worry. We never lost before when it counted," she cooed.

Trunks could only nod in response. He could tell she wasn't completely convinced that what she said was true either, but he wasn't going to call her out on it. They needed hope. After all, wasn't hope the reason he traveled into the past in the first place?

"Now why don't you get to bed, young man?" she asked, somewhat teasingly. "It's getting late and you need your rest. If anything comes on the news we'll hear it tomorrow."

He smiled and hugged her tightly. "You're right. I'll see you in the morning."

Bulma watched as he stood up and shuffled out of the living room to go upstairs to his guest room. She was left with a sad smile on her face as he left her. She turned the television off and ran one hand through her hair. "Things just keep getting worse, don't they?" she asked the empty room.

_A/N: Poor Trunks. Vegeta finally stops beating him and then Bulma slaps him. I love him, really I do! But it's fun to make people hurt him, I guess. I'm sorry if you don't approve._

_Before I posted this, I considered changing the song. But then I decided I like the song I had in mind for a part of the SEQUEL I'm going to write better. And it comes near the end of the sequel so you'll have to wait a long, long time to learn what the song is. :)_

_Song: "Killing Loneliness" by HIM_


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

_It will be you and me up in the trees  
And the forest will give us the answer  
It will be you and I up in the sky  
It's a combination for disaster_

Breakfast was set out on the table and Vegeta still hadn't gotten up. That was when Bulma really began to worry about him. After a short conversation with Trunks while waiting in the kitchen for breakfast, she learned that Vegeta slept almost straight through the last three days spent in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. And now here he was still sleeping the days away. She decided to go rouse him so he would at least get some food before Trunks ate it all.

She went up to his room and walked in without knocking, sure he was still asleep and wouldn't answer even if she did. She found his nest empty and remembered where she left him the previous evening, disbelieving he would still be on the balcony. Surely he had woken up at some point and gone to bed. But no, the balcony door was still ajar and when she stepped out she saw him still leaned against the wall in the same clothes he was wearing the day before.

"Vegeta, get up. It's time for breakfast," she said loudly. She was afraid that if she woke him up too suddenly he would fall off the rail. "Hey, Vegeta, food. Come and get it!"

She stepped closer to him and tried again, "Vegeta, come on. Get up and eat." She raised one hand to stroke his hair. She loved the feel of his soft, feathery hair as it brushed against her skin. It was unnaturally soft, so unlike his personality. She scratched gently behind his ear and soon heard a louder rumbling sound in his chest as he started to purr.

His tail sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer, yet he wasn't awake. She giggled at his tail's antics and scratched more so he leaned his head into her hand in a silent plea for more. "Vegeta? You going to wake up anytime soon? If you don't I'll let Trunks have your breakfast."

Sure that would work, she was disappointed when she got no rise out of the volatile saiyan. He really was down for the count. "How am I going to wake you up?" she asked, as if he would give her an answer. With a smirk, she bent down and brushed her lips against his and swung one leg over the rail so she could sit in his lap. She stroked his chest with her free hand and deepened the kiss even though it was one-sided.

Well, not for long. She heard a slight groan and then squeaked with delight when he wrapped his powerful arms around her waist and pulled her closer, finally responding to her touch. Vegeta forcefully pushed his tongue into her mouth and gently bit her lip.

When Bulma pulled back a little and opened her eyes, she saw two black orbs staring right back. Slowly, he arched one of his eyebrows, wondering why she was on his lap and kissing him. He wasn't complaining. It was a nice way to wake up. One he could get used to, in fact. But it was still unexpected.

"You're going to miss breakfast," she murmured, again taking his lips in a kiss.

He smirked against her lips and chuckled a little. "You're going to make me miss it if you keep this up, Woman."

"Guess we wouldn't want that," she replied, pulling back from him with her own smirk. She yelped when he forced her back down and crushed his lips against hers, hungrily sucking and biting her lips and tasting her sweetness. She felt so powerless against him and it made her want him more. She could practically taste his power, and it was so good.

Vegeta moved to roll over, making them fall off the balcony rail. He could feel her sharp intake of breath as she prepared to scream, so he pushed his tongue into her mouth again to silence her. Her scream turned into a moan long before Vegeta stopped their fall mere inches from the ground. He lowered them slowly the rest of the way until he was on top of her in the grass of the back yard.

Bulma felt the cool ground against her back and knew he saved her from getting hurt even though the fall wouldn't have had the slightest effect on him. Yes, his power was delicious. It was addictive, and she wanted more of it. She wrapped her arms around his body and tried to pull him closer even though he was already weighing heavily on her.

He disappointed her by unhooking her arms from around him and sat up so he was straddling her hips. He looked down at her with his trademark smirk and sniffed the air. Even outside he could smell breakfast cooking. Immediately his stomach growled and he knew he couldn't disobey its demands for food. Reluctantly, he climbed off Bulma and pulled her to her feet, wrapped his tail around her waist, and dragged her inside all the way to the kitchen.

Not long after breakfast, the doorbell rang. Vegeta and Trunks were both sitting in the living room watching the news, so it was Bulma who had to get up to answer the door. She was greeted by the gloomy faces of some of her best friends: Krillin, Roshi, Oolong, Chichi, and even Yamcha. She stepped back to let them in. "Hey guys, what are you all doing here?"

Krillin was the last to walk in, so he answered for the group, "We just thought we'd come by and see how everyone's doing. We can keep an eye on the news for any information about Cell, too."

"And here I thought it was purely a social call," Bulma said sardonically. She smiled at the short bald man when he blushed and playfully punched his shoulder.

The odd group made their way into the living room and found seats in various places on the floor, in chairs, and on the couch where they could find room. Bulma was surprised that Vegeta didn't explode in rage at the intrusion of the others. She knew he wasn't fond of them, especially Yamcha. Then again, she remembered that he did consider them allies, if nothing else, and since they were in a situation where they had a common enemy they were on the lookout for, maybe he was tolerating their presence better. Still, she couldn't miss the fact that Yamcha sat as far away from the saiyan as possible and the palpable tension between them.

The blue-haired woman squeezed between Trunks and Vegeta on the couch and rested her head on the latter's shoulder. She could feel how high-strung he was, what with being surrounded by other warriors he knew didn't entirely trust him, making his trust in them waver. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so she decided to ignore his unease.

"Do you think he's really going to announce in on TV?" Yamcha asked after watching the news nonstop for an hour. He was getting bored. All of them had been listening to the news religiously for the past two days and still there was no announcement of a tournament.

Bulma caught a glimpse of the corner of Vegeta's mouth rising in scorn as he looked at the scarred warrior. She chuckled to herself and nuzzled into the saiyan's shoulder to distract him from hurting her friend.

"That's what he said," Trunks verified. He had wondered the same thing himself, though.

The whole morning passed and there was still no news on Cell. The warriors were all starting to get tired of sitting still for so long, feeling the need to get up and move around some. The only one who didn't seem eager to get up from his seat was Vegeta. He never returned Bulma's outward signs of affection, but that was only expected. She didn't mind. But her concern grew when she didn't feel him fidgeting like she saw her friends doing. He appeared to have no interest in training or doing much of anything besides sitting in front of the TV.

"Man, I can't sit here like this anymore!" Yamcha announced. He stood up from his seat in a recliner and threw a few practice punches. "I'm going outside to train. I want to be ready for Cell." He gave his goofy grin and started walking out of the room.

"Oh, please," Vegeta scoffed, "As if you'll be any use at all. You're so pitifully weak you'll only get in the way."

Yamcha stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at the saiyan. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed for the first time how his ex-girlfriend was snuggled up to him and he actually wasn't pushing her away. "Well, it's not like you can defeat him either, Vegeta," he snapped.

Bulma felt the vibration in Vegeta's chest as he growled at the scar-faced warrior. She recognized the signs of a fight starting and wanted to stop it before it escalated from the biting remarks that had already been shared. "Yamcha," she said calmly, "Vegeta's a lot stronger now. I bet he could take on ten Cells and not even break a sweat."

The human warrior rolled his eyes at her before making his exit. "As if. You're dreaming, Bulma. Vegeta's not strong enough to defeat Cell. Goku's going to be the one who kills him."

Everyone jumped in surprise when there was a flash of light and a loud yelp heard from the doorway as a small cloud of smoke wafted through the room. Well, everyone except Vegeta. He was still watching the TV, except now he had an evil smirk on his face.

"What the hell is your problem, Vegeta?" Yamcha demanded as he stomped back into the center of the room, blocking the saiyan's view of the news. He was shaking with rage and humiliation as his shirt continued to smolder on his back.

"You."

"Damnit, you're just jealous that you'll never be as strong as Goku. You're pissed that he's going to kill Cell and not you. Get over yourself, you prick!" Yamcha shouted.

Vegeta's face darkened as he turned his fiercest scowl on the man in front of him. He bared his teeth as he hissed, "I am stronger than that fool. And you, you cocky, arrogant, idiotic fool, need to shut the hell up before something you say gets you killed."

Yamcha's face visibly paled when he saw the plain hatred written on the saiyan's face. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look calmer than he felt. "Whatever, Vegeta." He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room while everyone else looked on in fear.

The only sound in the room was the news for a full minute before anyone dared speak. "I think I'm going to go outside and train with Yamcha," Krillin muttered as he quickly stood and ran out of the room. The tension in the air was suffocating him.

"You know that was awfully mean, 'Geta," Bulma chided after a while.

Vegeta turned to her and widened his smirk. "He deserved it."

"You jerk."

"Wench."

"Arrogant saiyan."

"Loudmouth woman."

They stared each other down before the others erupted into laughter. Their argument effectively broke the tension in the room. The others all knew how stubborn and prideful both Bulma and Vegeta were, so seeing them going at each other's throats was rather comical because everyone knew neither of them would ever back down. And, though they could never figure out why, they knew Vegeta would never harm Bulma and that they never meant what they said anyway. At least, not completely.

Vegeta glared at the warriors sitting around him and crossed his arms over his chest. Bulma thought he looked like he was pouting, so she joined in the laughter. It was good to have some relief from the unease that marked their lives for the past few days. Sure, the world might be about to end, but at least they could still have a good time together.

Their laughter was cut short by the sound of screaming and explosions on television. All eyes snapped to the screen, only to see the perfect form of the monster Cell standing where the news anchor had been sitting only moments before. The heat of rising ki could be felt in the room as the warriors listened to Cell announcing what he called the "Cell Games."

"…will be held nine days from today in area S.5 28 miles northeast of Eastern City…"

There it was. The crucial information needed. They had a date and place where they would go and fight the evil android who hoped to take over and destroy the world. Bulma was getting uncomfortably hot sitting between two saiyans who were growing increasingly angry by the second. There was no doubt that they were ready for a rematch.

"Cell, I will defeat you," she heard Vegeta muttering under his breath. She barely nodded, even though he hadn't asked for her opinion. He stated it as fact.

"You will," she whispered in his ear, her warm breath tickling him. "I know you will."

She felt something furry wrapping tightly around her waist and smiled. Maybe Trunks, Yamcha, and everyone else doubted his ability to make good on his promise, but she didn't. She knew he had it in him to kill the android for good. It might be a hard battle with him at the disadvantage, but he would come through in the end. She knew it. She believed in him when no one else would. He couldn't die, not again. Not before she got to share her life with him.

When the news broadcast ended, Trunks turned the TV off and stood up from his seat, eager to get back to training. There were nine days in which he could get even stronger and become better able to help take down Cell.

"Goku and Gohan will be leaving the time chamber soon. After they're out, I can go back in for a whole year more," Trunks told whoever was willing to listen.

Vegeta looked up at him and frowned. "Don't bother, boy. You've reached a plateau you cannot transcend without the proper circumstances. That will only come in battle."

Trunks' eyes widened when he heard what he thought was his father telling him to not push himself in his training. He shook his head and opened his mouth a few times before finally managing to ask, "Not train? What do you mean?"

Vegeta looked annoyed about having to specify what he meant, but answered anyway. "I don't mean you shouldn't train at all. But don't bother going into the time chamber. It would be a waste of time and energy. You will gain nothing by spending another year in there."

"So does this mean you won't be going in either?" Trunks asked, still dumbfounded.

"I won't. I will rest another day and then resume my regular training."

Trunks nodded and moved toward the door. He looked over his shoulder at his parents and half-smiled. "I'm going to go to the Lookout and wait for Goku and Gohan so I can tell them what's going on. And who knows, maybe one of them will spar with me."

Vegeta only grunted as his son left to go spend time with his rival. The idea of sparring, at the moment, was none too appealing. And anyway, he didn't much care to find out how strong the other saiyan and his spawn had gotten. He was sure he was still stronger, and that was good enough for him. If not, well, he still had a trick hidden up his sleeve. He just needed help bringing it out.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the woman sitting next to him as she asked, "You're not training at all today, then?"

"No," he replied.

"Then what are you going to do?" she prodded.

"Like I said: rest."

"Oh."

They were interrupted by the sound of the TV turning back on, followed shortly by the upbeat music in the background of an aerobics program. Roshi and Oolong were both seated in front of the TV ogling the women on the screen and shouting lewd comments.

Bulma rolled her eyes and quirked an eyebrow at the saiyan, who looked annoyed. She stood up and grabbed his hand. "Let's go somewhere else."

He grunted and stood up in one fluid movement, his tail casually winding around her waist. He stifled a yawn as he followed her out of the room, not really caring where she was leading him as long as it was away from the perverts. Though he didn't care, he was glad when she chose to go upstairs instead of down to her lab. While he wouldn't mind spending time with her anywhere, he didn't want to go there. In fact, upstairs was rather inviting.

She stopped in front of the door to his room and pushed it open before walking in with the saiyan in tow. By now he was becoming curious to find out what she had planned. He hoped it included more of their earlier activity, not that he would ever say so. Needless to say, he was a little disappointed when he saw her pick up a small device from the nightstand he never used and led him back out of his room, down the stairs, through the hall, and out the front door of the compound.

"Woman, what are you doing?" he asked tiredly.

"Going somewhere away from all the guys," she answered with a suggestive smirk.

Vegeta was about to protest with the argument that she could just kick them out of her home when she threw the device – a capsule – on the ground. Out of the puff of smoke came an object he had all but forgotten. There, standing ready to be used for the first time in well over two years, was Vegeta's motorcycle, Bulma's first real gift to him. He turned to her with an expression of bewilderment.

"Oh, I know you could fly us anywhere or I could drive, but I thought this would be more fun," she told him, never batting an eye. She smiled and pulled the helmet on while she waited for him to get on. When he finally did, she climbed on behind him and giggled when she felt his tail wrapping protectively around her waist.

She put her arms around him and leaned into his back. He started the motorcycle and waited for her to tell him where to take them.

"Hey, Bulma, where you going?" Yamcha called out as he ran around the compound after hearing what could only be one of her custom made cycles. He thought for sure she was going into the city to do some shopping or something else fun where he could accompany her.

Bulma felt Vegeta's tail bristling around her and turned to her ex-boyfriend after deciding it would do no good to ignore him. "Weren't you training?" she snapped. Being interrupted before they even got away from the compound was not her idea of fun.

Yamcha slowed when he saw that, not only was Vegeta with Bulma, he was the one driving. He felt jealousy bubbling inside when he saw her close proximity to the saiyan prince and remembered she almost _never_ let him drive when they were together. She had always been too much of a control freak. He swallowed back his emotions and gave a forced laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure I was B. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out or something, you know? It's been a while."

The look Vegeta gave the other man was venomous, but it went unnoticed since Yamcha had his eyes fixed on Bulma. He knew that if he even glanced at Vegeta he'd lose his backbone instantaneously.

Bulma shook her head and smiled apologetically, though she felt no guilt at all. "Sorry, Yam, but me and 'Geta are going out. We wouldn't want to make you feel like a third wheel."

At that, Vegeta snorted, but she ignored him and shrugged helplessly. Yamcha's confidence wavered after hearing her reasoning, but he was mostly undeterred. As much as he wanted to let her go on with life and be happy, he missed her terribly. While he would never be content with being 'just friends,' he knew that was the route their relationship had taken. That is, if he could get her to give him the time of day again. As it was, they never saw each other anymore and he felt there was an invisible chasm between them widened by the presence of the saiyan.

"Oh, it wouldn't be so bad," he assured her, grinning ear-to-ear. "Where you headed?"

"Can't he take a hint?" Bulma muttered under her breath. She felt more than heard Vegeta suppressing a laugh and had to work to contain her own laughter. Of course he would hear what she never meant to be heard by anyone. She turned another fake smile to Yamcha and shook her head again. "Sorry, Yammy, but there's no room for you on the motorcycle. Maybe next time."

She raised her hand in a wave as Vegeta took his cue to gun it. Yamcha was left coughing in a cloud of dust, now alone in the front yard of Capsule Corp. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he watched the two hot-heads disappearing down the street. He knew in his heart at that moment that he was never going to get Bulma back, and their friendship would never be the same again. She was the best thing that ever happened to him and not a day went by that he didn't regret ever giving that up, even if it was unintentional.

"Idiot," Vegeta grumbled as he drove away with his woman. He still had no idea where she wanted him to go, but that was irrelevant. What mattered at the moment was getting her away from the fool who gave her up. He didn't think he would be stupid enough to hurt her again, but he still didn't trust him to be around his woman.

Bulma had to agree. She shook her head and held onto Vegeta tighter as he wove through traffic. They were going at an alarmingly high speed, but she didn't worry about it. Even if they did crash, which was highly unlikely given Vegeta's driving skills, he would save her from harm. She sighed contentedly as she watched the city blurring past them and nuzzled into his shoulder. In truth, she didn't know where she wanted to go. She just knew she wanted to get out of the compound for a while and spend the day with Vegeta. So she let him drive where he wanted.

It wasn't long before he figured out that he was in charge of deciding where they would spend the day. Normally she would be shouting directions, but she was silent today and gave no indication that she meant to instruct him. He shrugged it off and sped through the streets of the city, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Though he'd lived in West City for over three years, he still knew little about what it had to offer aside from the sights Bulma had already shown him. Needless to say, he wasn't particularly thrilled with his current predicament. He was tired and wanted someplace he could relax far away from other people, but he didn't know of any place that would meet his requirements. The park was sure to be crowded, the beach likely worse, and he wasn't even willing to consider the mall or any other shopping center.

'Perhaps we can go outside of the city,' he thought as he swung a left down a side street. He could hear the siren of a police car behind him as he increased his speed to get through a yellow light. Rolling his eyes at the pathetic law enforcement, he turned right into a narrow alley, disappearing between two tall buildings. He smirked when he heard the siren fly past the alley and continued on his way.

Bulma was roaring with laughter as he made another escape from the police. It amused her greatly how he was so good at it, which made her wonder if he had much experience with evading punishment for deliberately breaking laws. She decided she might have to ask him about that later. In the meantime she was going to enjoy his wild driving that put her own daredevil tendencies to shame.

Vegeta pulled out onto another street and soon came to a red light he obligingly stopped at. "Woman, what is so funny?" he asked over his shoulder. She was still chuckling softly and intermittently gasping for air.

She smiled when she heard the amusement in his voice and replied, "I think it's hilarious the way you got away from the police. You're a pro."

He shook his head, but Bulma could see the toothy smirk on his face. Not only was he proud of himself for his escape artist tactics, but he was thrilled that she found it so praise-worthy. She giggled again and nuzzled into his shoulder.

When the light turned green he immediately accelerated until the other cars were left far behind. Vegeta was just trying to get out of the city as fast as possible. He was heading in the direction that would lead him out of the city the easiest, not caring where he went after he got out of city limits. It wasn't long before he noticed most of the traffic was heading in the same direction, which was strange considering the time of day. Usually everyone would be rushing into the city until late afternoon when they were leaving work to return to the suburbs.

"What are these idiot humans doing?" he wondered aloud as he slipped between two cars down the center of the road.

Bulma heard his question and turned her head to see what he was talking about. Then it struck her that there were no cars on the other side of the street, and the traffic was becoming heavier the further away from the center of the city they got. "What in the world is going on?"

Apparently there was a mass exodus from the city, but they couldn't figure out why. There had been no mandatory evacuation that they knew about. What event could possibly drive an entire city's population to head for the hills? Bulma's eyes widened when she figured it out. "I wonder if they're leaving the city because of Cell? Maybe they're afraid he's going to attack a city and leave people in the country alone."

Vegeta scoffed and shook his head. "If they believe that they're more foolish than I gave them credit for. Cell doesn't care where they are, he'll still kill them."

Bulma raised her eyebrow. "If I'm not mistaken, 'Geta, you almost sounded like you care that Cell wants to kill everyone."

"You're mistaken."

She chuckled and tightened her grip on him a little. He could pretend all he wanted that he didn't care, but she knew deep down he had to care at least a _little_ bit. She knew better than to push him though. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of going soft, which is how he would interpret caring about the inhabitants of Earth.

"This is ridiculous!" he shouted when he got cut off by an old man in a large, beat up pick-up truck. He swerved to the side and slammed on the brakes. "I've had it with these fools."

"What are you going to do?" Bulma asked nervously.

"I'm going to Final Flash their asses out of the way, what do you think?" he replied snidely. He looked around and found a possible route with little traffic that a motorcycle could easily get through.

Bulma cocked her head and bit her bottom lip as she considered his response. "Final Flash?"

Vegeta waited for a small break in traffic and then took off down the route he mapped out in his mind. He smirked at her question and debated whether or not to tell her about it. In the end, his pride wouldn't let him keep his accomplishment a secret. Not from her, at least. "It's a new attack I developed in the time chamber, much more powerful than my old ones."

"Even stronger than your Galick Gun?"

His smirk widened into an evil grin as he darted through the traffic. He mentally laughed at her innocent question. She couldn't even fathom the power his new attack was capable of. Hell, even he wasn't sure how much power he could pour into it. "Exponentially stronger."

Bulma gasped and stared at his back in stunned silence. There was no way to measure the energy in each of Vegeta's ki attacks, but she was familiar with the damage his Galick Gun was capable of. It wasn't a pretty sight. But to think that he created a new attack that was even bigger, even more destructive, was mind-numbing. She licked her dry lips and tried to speak, but she couldn't get any sound to come out.

"I would show you," he continued smugly, "But I don't want to reveal it until I need to."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. Every time she was reminded of the power the man she was in love with was capable of she was left speechless. He was amazing in so many ways. It hit her occasionally that she loved an alien who was superhuman in every way. He had superior strength, senses, intelligence, everything. Sometimes, she actually felt inferior to him, and she was Bulma Brief! She never felt inferior to _anyone_. But with Vegeta, she could willingly submit to him and admit he was, well, better. Though she still won in the beauty department. She was just lucky she found someone as perfect as him with a great physique to boot. She smirked at that thought and chuckled to herself.

If she could have seen him, she would have seen the exact same smirk on his face. He judged by her silence that she was impressed. His ego swelled the longer she was unable to form words. He knew his power was incomprehensible, especially by human standards, but that didn't matter. Even another saiyan would have to respect his power.

Soon they were moving out of the city, squeezing between cars, sometimes going over cars, driving on the shoulder of the road, and weaving through the lanes. Basically, by whatever means necessary, Vegeta was getting them as far from West City as possible in as little time as possible. His patience was running short and he was ready to blast some idiot humans into the next dimension by the time they got away from the slow, heavy traffic. He either ignored or laughed at the angry shouts and shaking fists of other drivers as he sped down the road.

Once they got ahead of the traffic, Vegeta sped as fast as the motorcycle could go, which, by his standards, was still fairly slow, even though they were going over 200 mph. Still, since they had no particular plan or destination in mind, he did not mind the relatively slow pace. He continued down the road until they were far from the city, surrounded only by open fields, rolling hills, and sporadic forests. He deeply inhaled the fresh air and released some of the tension he always had when around too many other people. Bulma noticed the difference but didn't comment on it. She was happy he was more relaxed, though.

After an hour of traveling in silence, they reached a mountainous area filled with forests and small lakes, hardly inhabited. Vegeta slowed down and sniffed the air again. The scent, so free of pollution, was refreshing. As they drove near yet another forest he could hear birds chirping merrily as if all was right in the world. He pulled off the side of the road and came to a stop before getting off the motorcycle.

Bulma was quick to follow his lead and pulled her helmet off, shaking her head to let her long tresses fall freely down her back. She capsulated the motorcycle for him and handed over the capsule, which he stuffed in his pocket. She looked around at the peaceful scene and turned to him as she asked, "What are we doing here?"

Vegeta shrugged and started walking into the forest. The thick foliage overhead obscured him from view with dark shadows. Bulma mimicked his shrug and ran after him, making considerably more noise than him. He stopped when he heard her coming to allow her to catch up and resumed walking when she reached his side. Surrounded on all sides by nature, he entertained the thought that he should take her to the forested planet he spent so many months on when he left the mudball.

He allowed himself to lower his guard as he made his way through the thick forest. He couldn't sense any significant power levels anywhere nearby and knew there was no reason for anyone to come after him. After three years he was finally starting to feel more at ease on the planet of weaklings. Even though the biggest threat he had ever faced was walking the same planet somewhere, he wasn't worried. He didn't expect to encounter Cell in the forest where no humans dwelled.

Bulma watched the saiyan out of the corner of her eye and smiled when she saw the rest of the tension leave his body. He looked at peace for a change. Nature seemed to have such a calming effect on him, it almost made her feel guilty for making him stay with her in the city. He belonged in the wilderness like Goku.

They were deep in the forest when Vegeta's stomach growled loudly. Both of them stared at his stomach for a few seconds before meeting each other's gaze. Vegeta could see barely restrained amusement dancing in her blue eyes. "I haven't had lunch," he explained bluntly.

"I know. I didn't think to pack us anything to eat either," she told him.

"Hn," he grunted. He seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before he picked her up and slung her effortlessly over his shoulder. She yelped in surprise and gasped when he leapt into the branches above and swung from tree to tree silently. She was again awestruck by his strength and grace as he moved.

He finally came to a stop and crouched on a thick branch of a tall oak tree before carefully setting her down with her back leaning against the trunk of the tree. He put his finger to his lips in a silent command for her to be quiet. She nodded and watched as he turned around and crept further out on the branch, his tail waving slowly from side to side as he balanced himself.

She looked around below to see what he was up to, but she didn't see any reason for his strange behavior. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the saiyan. She blinked in surprise when he seemed to disappear from sight as he launched himself off the branch and tackled a deer that was wandering through the forest. Vegeta landed on the doe's back and with a practiced movement grabbed its head and twisted it around until he heard a sickening crack and the animal collapsed, dead.

Bulma gasped and put her hand over her mouth as she felt bile rising in her throat. She watched with morbid fascination as Vegeta formed a ki blade and started skinning the animal and removing its entrails. When she was sure she couldn't watch any more, Vegeta raised his hand, palm out, and threw a small ki blast into a pile of dry brush, which immediately burst into flames. Using the ki blade, Vegeta started cutting up the meat and skewered it with thick sticks and started roasting it over the fire.

When the first hunk of meat was cooked, Vegeta looked up at Bulma, who was still sitting quietly on the tree branch watching his every move. He smirked at her and bit into the meat, the warm juices running down his chin as he took animalistic pleasure in the taste of a fresh kill.

Bile rose again as Bulma fought off her disgust. She tried to reason with herself that his eating that deer was no different than eating meat purchased at a store. It was all muscle from a dead animal. Still, she had never witnessed the process of killing, cleaning, butchering, cooking, and eating an animal in such a short time. She swallowed and tried to smile at him.

Vegeta could sense her discomfort and scoffed. He knew what was bothering her, but he didn't know why it was. He continued roasting the meat and finally leapt back up to the tree branch in front of her and offered her a smaller piece of meat, still hot and steaming.

Tentatively, Bulma reached out and accepted the offering of food from the saiyan. She sniffed it a few times and decided that it at least smelled edible. And anyway, Vegeta had eaten almost the entire deer, so if she wanted any food she was going to have to eat what he gave her. She held her breath and closed her eyes, shutting out thoughts of having just seen the animal walking beneath her a few minutes ago as she bit into the meat. Her eyes snapped open with surprise at its unexpected deliciously savory flavor.

"Oh my Kami, this is great!" she exclaimed through her mouthful of food. She swallowed and started tearing into the meat ravenously. She hadn't felt very hungry before, but now that she tasted something so good she couldn't stop herself until it was all gone.

Vegeta smirked in satisfaction at her compliment and watched as she ate. For some reason providing her with food made a sense of pride swell in his chest. "And here I was beginning to think you were disgusted by my hunting," he quipped when she was finished.

Bulma smiled guiltily and shrugged one shoulder. "You have to admit, it's kind of a gross process."

He chuckled and shook his head. No, he would never understand her. Without warning, he moved closer until he was on top of her and captured her lips with his own. He could taste the lingering flavor of the meat and sucked and bit her bottom lip hungrily.

"Ve…geta," she gasped out between kisses. Every time he kissed her so urgently she felt as if she had died and gone to heaven. She felt desire building in her core and wanted nothing more than to have him claim her then and there, on a tree branch, in a forest, whatever. It didn't matter to her where they were, she wanted all of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and feverishly returned his kisses.

He was only turned on more hearing her whimpering his name helplessly in pleasure. It was a wonderful sound, but he desired to hear her scream his name in the throes of passion as he pleasured her in ways she never dreamed possible. He smirked as his desire became more conscious and he pressed himself against her, intensifying their pleasure. He heard her moaning and gasping for air and deepened their kiss until he was practically growling in pleasure himself.

Slowly, he slipped his hand under her blouse and worked up her silky skin until he reached her breast. He squeezed gently and teased her hard nipple with his thumb. Her soft mewling nearly broke his self-control down. He felt her grinding her hips against him and felt his control slipping further. He wanted her more than ever before, and she was using that against him. He didn't know if he would be able to stop himself from ravaging her for nine more days.

'Nine more days,' he reminded himself firmly. 'In nine days we will be mated and I will finally be able to claim her body as mine.' He groaned at the thought of waiting and broke away from her. He was sure that if they kept going like this he was going to lose it and forget his honor and take her there, in the tree. Being alone with her was a temptation he could hardly resist.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and sat on the branch with his feet dangling off. He was busy trying to calm himself down, so he didn't notice Bulma carefully move over to him until he felt her legs around his waist and her head leaning on his shoulder. Instinctively he wrapped his arm around her waist and his tail coiled around her thigh. He could smell her arousal and it made him want her all over again, but he forced himself to shove thoughts of mating aside.

"Why'd you stop?" she whispered as she nibbled his earlobe.

He grunted in response, not wanting to explain. He didn't feel he really needed to anymore. He turned to her and rubbed his cheek against hers affectionately. "Nine days," he told her, knowing she would know what he meant.

Bulma nodded and sighed heavily. She was as tired of waiting as he was, but she knew better than to try to push him to go further than he was willing. "I guess if we're getting married I should get a dress," she mused aloud.

"What for?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes and rubbed his back absent-mindedly. "Well, if we're going to have a human wedding, then I need a dress. It's a very formal event. You'll have to dress in your best, too. And we'll invite friends and family and it'll be a big celebration. Then we can mate."

His lip raised in contempt at the thought of anyone seeing what he imagined would be a private event. "You want people to witness our coupling?"

Bulma giggled and shook her head. "No, Vegeta. They're not going to watch us have sex. The wedding is just a ceremony that makes the marriage legal and it's when we publicly vow to be together forever."

"Sounds pointless," he snorted.

She frowned at him and smacked his shoulder. "It's not pointless! It means a lot to me so you better just go with it, or I'm not mating with you. I'm going to get a big white wedding dress and everything and then we're going to be married and then we're going to mate in whatever saiyan ritual there is."

"You will wear a blue dress."

"Blue?" she echoed dumbly.

He nodded once and turned to face her again. "We may have a stupid human wedding, but don't forget you're marrying the crown prince of Vegeta-sei. That means you will wear blue, as is customary for royalty."

Bulma studied his eyes for a few moments before she smiled and nodded. Of course he would want to have her dressed in blue on their wedding day. She was becoming his princess. The princess of Vegeta-sei, even if it didn't exist anymore. She felt happiness bubbling up in her and could hardly contain her joy as she slammed her lips forcefully against his.

When she released him, he furrowed his brows as he gazed at her intensely. "Do we have to invite your idiot friends?" he finally asked.

Bulma sighed dramatically and raised her eyes to the heavens, silently imploring the gods why he had to be so difficult and antisocial. "Yes, Vegeta," she said firmly, "We're going to invite my friends. They're my pack, which means they're _your_ pack. Get used to it."

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch downward, but he quickly returned his stoic expression to his face. "Fine, whatever," he grumbled.

"That's better," she said smugly. She was glad he wasn't putting up a fight about it.

He shrugged and stared straight ahead out into the forest. He was relieved that she was quiet again so he could simply enjoy the sound of the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves and the birds chirping in the trees. It was peaceful, something he was starting to appreciate about the weak planet. It would never really be home, but it was at least welcoming. He closed his eyes and yawned, fatigue once again setting in. It seemed he couldn't shake it no matter how much he rested.

His drooping eyelids snapped back open when he felt Bulma's hand on his chin gently turning his head to face her. He could see her concern in her eyes and wanted to look away, but he was again captivated by her cerulean pools. "What?" he asked, his tiredness taking the edge off his tone.

Bulma's eyes continued probing his until he had to avert his gaze. "What's wrong with you? I've never seen you so exhausted. Not after you've given yourself time to rest after too much training."

Vegeta groaned and gently moved her hand away and stared ahead again. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

His eyes snapped back to hers, allowing her to see the fleeting flicker of indignation. Normally she would have been proud of herself for getting under his skin, but at the moment all she could think about was her concern for his health. She frowned when he turned away yet again and shrugged nonchalantly.

"So I'm tired," he said, forcing himself to remain patient, "It doesn't mean I'm not well."

"You're sure?" she asked.

He nodded. Once again silence descended between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. She was willing to trust him if he said he was really just tired, not sick or anything. No doubt she would hear about it if something were the matter. Wordlessly she snuggled up to him closer and traced her fingers up and down his spine until she could hear the faint rumbling of a purr.

After a while Vegeta tightened his grip around her waist and slid them off the branch, landing on the ground softly. He saw a patch of lush grass lit by warm sunlight and walked over to it. He stretched leisurely before dropping down on the ground and curling up with his tail twitching contentedly behind him. He supported his head with one arm and closed his eyes as he quickly drifted off to sleep.

Bulma watched him with some amusement. Just like a cat he went for the warm, soft spot for his afternoon nap. He was even curled up like a cat. She smiled and knelt down next to him, and, with quite a bit of effort, lifted his dead weight free arm and moved underneath it, snuggling back against his warm body. He never stirred as she got comfortable and joined him in his nap.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

The blue-haired woman blinked her eyes open when she heard someone's voice nearby. She groaned as she forced her mind out of her sleep-induced stupor and looked around. She rolled onto her back and yawned when she didn't see anything out of the ordinary, figuring the voice she heard had been a part of her dream she didn't remember. She sighed with content when she found Vegeta's arm had drawn her closer in a protective embrace as they slept.

She jerked her head to the side when she heard someone snickering. "I don't know, Willy, looks like a couple punks got lost out in the woods. Think they got any money on 'em?"

Bulma gasped when she heard that and tried to sit up to see where the voices were coming from, but the saiyan's arm held her down.

"Hey, the bitch is awake."

"That's a fine piece of ass," came the first voice, who she assumed was Willy. She felt her face flush at that comment and scowled into the forest, still not sure which direction the voices were coming from.

Then came the sound of more snickering and she couldn't help but feel the leers even if she couldn't see them. She repressed a shudder of revulsion and turned her head to see if Vegeta was awake, but his eyes were still closed and his breathing was slow and steady. Definitely asleep. She frowned at him and elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could given the small space between their bodies.

"Vegeta," she hissed, "Wake up right now."

She heard a faint growl and his brows furrowed in a trace of a scowl. 'Damnit, why is he always such a heavy sleeper when I _want_ him to wake up?' she thought with a sigh of frustration. She elbowed him again but only received another short growl in response. At least he felt it.

Her head snapped to the side again when she heard twigs snapping and leaves rustling on the ground a few feet away. She saw a pair of brown steel-toed boots first, then moved her gaze up a long pair of legs and thin body of a very tall man wearing a camouflage jacket and brown baseball cap. She narrowed her eyes at him and sneered when she saw the way he was appraising her body.

He grinned at her, showing his crooked teeth under his scruffy moustache. "Afternoon, miss," he greeted with mock respect.

"He's just a little punk, ain't he?" came the voice of the tall man's companion who was just now coming into view a few feet behind him. He was a few inches shorter, but clearly the brawn behind their little two-man gang. He had bulky muscles, a bald head, and was wearing a pair of baggy black pants, combat boots, and a gray muscle shirt. His square jaw and cleft chin only added to his thug appearance. Bulma rolled her eyes at how cliché his attire was, given what she figured was his career: a criminal.

The first man, whose voice she recognized as Willy, nodded and chuckled as his eyes moved from her to the saiyan prince who was still sleeping peacefully next to her. "Sure is. Bet you wouldn't have any trouble taking him out. Looks like we're going to get some goods today."

Tired of listening to them talk as if she wasn't there, Bulma decided to speak up. "Oh shut up you big idiots. You're not robbing us because if you try Vegeta here will kill you with the flick of his wrist, you pathetic weaklings."

"Oh, kitty got claws, eh?" Willy asked as he took a few steps closer to the pair on the ground.

Bulma only smirked in reply as she shoved her elbow into Vegeta's ribs again. She turned her head slightly to the side and whispered in the growling saiyan's ear, "Vegeta, I'm about to be robbed. Aren't you going to wake up and rescue me?"

Despite her calm tone, Vegeta's eyes immediately snapped open and he rolled onto his stomach with her beneath him and growled fiercely when he laid eyes on the two men now standing just two yards away. They were clearly taken aback by the speed at which he moved and the feral glint in his onyx eyes.

Bulma looked at the two would-be rapists and robbers innocently and stroked Vegeta's chest. To her surprise, neither man backed down from the saiyan, still assuming based on his small stature that he wasn't a real threat. He'd caught them off guard, but it wasn't enough to scare them away. She sighed and reached one hand up to stroke Vegeta's cheek. "Hey, don't kill them, ok?" She winked at him and with a smug smirk rested her head on her arm as she looked back at Willy and company.

Vegeta's tail slowly unwound from his waist and lashed behind him angrily as he bared his teeth at the two men, flicking his tongue over his sharp canines. He lowered himself until his body was weighing heavily on Bulma, ready to pounce if they came any closer to his woman.

"He has a tail?" Willy asked dumbly, staring at the furry appendage of the saiyan.

Willy's companion scoffed and shrugged. "So what if he does? He's just a freak. I can beat his puny ass any day." That said, he started punching his right fist into his left palm as an evil grin spread across his ugly face. He took another step forward, fully ready for a fight with the smaller man, making the terrible mistake of underestimating his strength.

In an instant Vegeta sprang forward, knocking the burly man to the ground in one swift movement before leaping back over to Bulma again, teeth still bared and an unearthly growl emitting from his chest. His black eyes bore holes through the tall man's soul, or so it felt to him. Vegeta's cold glare flickered over to the man he just attacked as he struggled back to his feet, ready for another round. He was apparently too stupid to realize he was outmatched, chalking the small man's attack up to luck and his own inattention.

Bulma watched with mild amusement, sure that Vegeta wouldn't severely hurt the humans, but happy to know they were going to get a saiyan piece of justice for their criminal ways. She reached between herself and Vegeta and traced her finger down his chest and abs and giggled when she saw his almost imperceptible shiver her touch elicited.

"Woman," he growled.

She smiled up at him and raised her eyebrow suggestively. "Yes, Prince?"

He looked down at her and rolled his eyes. "Do you really think now is the time for this?"

She shrugged and looked back over at the men who were slowly inching closer. Turning her attention back to the saiyan on top of her she pouted and brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. "What's wrong with now? Don't you want to play, 'Geta?"

This time when he growled she knew it was from desire for her. He smirked at her and lowered his head until their noses were touching. "Of course, Woman. But do you want these fools watching?"

Bulma sighed dramatically and shook her head. "I'm not really into voyeurism."

Before the large man could even charge at them as he was planning, Vegeta raised his hand and released a small ki blast that sent both men flying back into a tree, knocking them out. He licked Bulma's lips and bit them gently. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as she devoured his mouth in a hungry kiss.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you Vegeta!"

Two angry pairs of eyes turned on the tall saiyan who was grinning shyly at them and rubbing the back of his neck. "How the hell did you find me here, Kakarrot?" Vegeta snarled.

Goku laughed nervously and answered in his usual happy-go-lucky way, "Well, you see I was trying to track your ki so when I felt it flare a little a minute ago I honed in on it and – "

"Let me rephrase: Why the fuck are you here?" Vegeta cut the younger saiyan off.

Not seeming to mind being interrupted and talked to so rudely, Goku continued as if he'd been saying all along, "Trunks told us what's been going on with Cell since Gohan and I went into the time chamber and I was thinking maybe you would want to go train there for another year. I mean, if you want a chance at beating Cell, that is. I could probably take him myself now, but Trunks said you really want to be the one to beat him."

Vegeta pushed himself up to his feet and formed a ball of ki in his hand. "If you don't get out of here immediately, clown, I am going to blast you into the next dimension." He only waited a second before hurling the ki at the smiling face standing in front of him.

In an instant the tailless saiyan disappeared and the ki blasted through the forest and into the sky where it exploded in a blinding flash of light. Vegeta groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose before clenching his fist and swinging it and making contact with flesh. "I said get out of here, fool!" Vegeta roared as he glared menacingly at the other saiyan who hadn't been quite fast enough to dodge his punch.

Goku frowned and rubbed his jaw gingerly. "What's your deal? I thought you'd want to get stronger to defeat Cell."

"And you implied you're stronger than me," Vegeta scoffed as he turned his back on the other warrior. "I think _you_ should be the one to go train more. You still can't compare to me."

"Oh really?" Goku smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring the prince's usual stance. "Maybe we should spar and see who's stronger now."

Vegeta whirled around and glowered at the third-class saiyan before glancing over his shoulder at his blue-haired woman who was sitting behind him and watching with thinly veiled irritation as the two saiyans argued. He furrowed his brows and turned back to his rival. "Not today, Kakarrot. Go spar with the Namekian or your half-breed spawn."

Goku's cocky façade faded and his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "But Vegeta," he whined, dragging the prince's name out, "Chichi's making Gohan study and Piccolo went into the time chamber to train for a day!"

"Then spar with Trunks!" Vegeta shouted, losing what little patience he had.

"I can't," Goku argued, "He's not strong enough."

It was hard to miss the blaze of anger that ignited in the inky depths of Vegeta's eyes when he heard his son's strength being disrespected. He sneered at the taller saiyan with scorn as he marched toward him, his aura flaring up around him in a whirlwind of power. His tail lashed angrily behind him, betraying the emotion hidden behind his stoic expression. "You will leave now, fool, or I will tear you limb from limb and make sure you cannot be brought back to life."

Goku gulped and took a step back from the prince. Where a minute ago he was perfectly confident in his superior strength, he wasn't so sure now. He felt something different in Vegeta's ki that hadn't been there before. Something even deeper. Something wild and untamable, a raging power that lurked within just waiting to be released. It reminded him of the power he sensed in the prince when they were fighting on a planet light-years away, but it was even greater. His eyes widened when he realized it was the same type of power he sensed in his son when they were training in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.

He raised his hands defensively and swallowed his pride as he conceded. "Alright, I'm going Vegeta. Don't blow a gasket." He sighed and lifted two fingers to his forehead before he disappeared from sight, leaving the saiyan prince and blue-haired genius alone again.

"I hate that clown," Vegeta muttered as he settled back down on the ground next to Bulma. "We're not inviting him to our wedding thing."

Bulma chuckled and shook her head. "We'll discuss that later."

"Whatever."

"Hey, it's getting late. I think we should head back to Capsule Corp if we want to make it on time for dinner," Bulma said as she stood up and stretched. She jumped when she suddenly felt two rough hands on her exposed mid-riff as her shirt raised with her arms.

Vegeta caressed her smooth skin as he pulled her to him and tugged her pants down a little until he could trace his fingers over the almost invisible half-circle scar on her hip. Bulma felt a tingle of desire run through her body at his gentle touch, especially when he reached the spot where he bit her so long ago.

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing as he ran his teeth across her skin until he reached the faint scar. When he did, he bit down on it until he drew blood. Bulma whimpered in pain, but instead of fighting it this time, she patiently waited for him to stop the bleeding.

"Why do you do that?" she breathed when he pulled back from her and stood up. She swayed on her feet a little and held onto him for support.

"I don't know," he murmured as he stroked her hair and leaned down to breathe in her delicious scent. "You don't like it?"

She was about to tell him she didn't, but stopped herself after opening her mouth to speak. What a ridiculous question. Why would she like something that hurt? Why would she like the fact that he was making her bleed, and not only that, he was tasting it? As much as she thought she should find the act disgusting, she was oddly turned on by it. With a soft sigh, she shook her head and kissed his temple. "I don't mind. I just wonder why you do it."

"If it's not a problem, then don't question it," he whispered in her ear.

Bulma nodded and ran her hand through his flame of hair. "Fine. But seriously, we need to get going."

"Hn," he grunted as he picked her up and guided her legs around his waist. He smirked at her when she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Hold on."

"Huh?" she asked, but then squealed in surprise when he leapt into the trees and started swinging from the branches, gracefully catching them with his hands, swinging around, and letting go at just the right moment to launch himself to the next, occasionally using his tail as a swing instead.

What must have been only seconds later, they landed from a triple back-flip on the outer edge of the forest next to the road they came on. Bulma lowered her feet to the ground and found herself unsteady as the world spun around her. Vegeta's tail caught her around the waist as she wobbled a little too far.

"You crazy monkey," she gasped, holding her head between her hands in an effort to steady the ground rocking beneath her. Normally he would have been offended by her choice of words, but he could tell she meant no harm by them. If anything, he was amused.

He lifted her chin to look down into her blue eyes and smirked. "Given the situation, I'll let that insult slide, just this once." He brushed his lips against hers and stepped back while he pulled the capsule out of his pocket and threw it on the ground in a puff of smoke.

Bulma started giggling and soon burst into hysterical laughter, hardly able to put on her helmet. "Oh Kami, Vegeta that was too much fun!" She collapsed on the ground from her mirth and slapped her knees. She continued laughing even when he rolled his eyes and pulled her back to her feet and picked her up and set her down on the back of the motorcycle.

"You're like a child," he grumbled as she wrapped her arms around him and fought to control her laughter. After wrapping his tail protectively around her waist, he pulled onto the road and headed back to the city, the rumbling of his stomach urging him go faster. He heard no arguments as he raced down the wide open lanes leading back into civilization.

_A/N: Fluff, fluff, fluff. But it was a fun chapter to write and I hope a fun chapter to read. There's five chapters left of this story now. I'm on the second chapter of the sequel. It took me four months to write this story that covers three years. The sequel covers seven years. How long do you think it'll take me to write? Hopefully not long because I'm not posting until it's complete._

_Do you think we can exceed 900 reviews with this chapter? :)_

_Song: "Trees" by Lovehammers_


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

_I get knocked down, but I get up again  
You're never gonna keep me down_

Vegeta woke at his usual time the next morning after going to bed early. The first thing he noticed upon waking was the almost complete return of his usual energy, his extra day of rest having done his body good. He rolled onto his back and stared at the dimly lit ceiling for a few minutes before sitting up and rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes.

He yawned as he stood up and stretched before making his way across his room to pull a pair of shorts out of the dresser. As much as he actually had enjoyed his days off, he was eager to get back to his training. His body was craving strenuous activity and he was more than willing to oblige. So, after dressing, he made haste in going downstairs to the gravity room to begin his day of training.

What Vegeta wasn't expecting was for someone else to be awake at the ungodly early hours of the morning when he usually was able to enjoy some quiet solitude. So focused on his goal of reaching the gravity room was he that he plowed into another person when he darted around a corner on his way there. He instantly jumped back in a defensive position before he could make sense of what happened.

"What are you doing up, boy?" Vegeta grumbled tiredly as he straightened his posture.

Trunks smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes drifting to the side to avoid making contact with his father's. "I usually get up pretty early, but I wanted to get some extra training in today."

Vegeta seemed to consider that for a few moments, silently appraising the teenager with his harsh, scrutinizing glare. Finally, he nodded and gestured for Trunks to follow him as he continued his journey through the winding halls of the compound to the gravity room. It was all he could do to not change his mind when he saw the familiar way his son's eyes lit up with excitement when he showed his acceptance. Not for the first time he was worried he was becoming too soft towards the boy, leading him to believe he had it in him to be a father figure.

Stopping outside the gravity room, Vegeta entered the code to unlock the door and stepped into his beloved sanctuary with Trunks right behind him. He started his stretches before the door was even closed and then walked over to the gravity console. He looked over his shoulder at the lavender-haired youth who was seated on the floor finishing his own warm-up.

"How much gravity can you withstand, boy?" he asked patronizingly.

Trunks looked up at his father and shrugged. "I don't know. I've never used a gravity simulator to train before."

Repressing a frustrated sigh, Vegeta nodded once and turned the gravity to 100Gs and engaged the gravity simulator. Seconds later, he felt a mild tug on his muscles, but it was hardly noticeable, even in his base state. "Stand up," he ordered his son gruffly.

With obvious effort, Trunks forced himself to his feet, his legs shaking under his weight. He lifted his head proudly and fought to hide the strain the increased gravity was putting on his body. He already knew this was child's play to his father; he wasn't going to shame himself by begging for lighter training conditions.

"Is it too much for you?" Vegeta taunted. He was privy to Trunks' weakness, but he was also determined to strengthen the boy both in pride and power. Making this a challenge would make it impossible for Trunks to back down, which is exactly what he wanted.

Falling for Vegeta's ruse, Trunks defiantly shook his head and clenched his fists at his sides. He determinedly kept his face neutral to mask the pain already growing in his muscles. He would be unbearably sore after this training session, but it would help him gain his father's respect, so he considered it worth the price. "I'm fine, father," he stated confidently.

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Good. Then I want you to attack me with everything you've got."

"Everything, huh?" Trunks asked smugly, getting ready to transform to super saiyan.

Knowing what his son was planning, Vegeta quickly added, "Without ascending." He watched in satisfaction as the smug smirk that was creeping across Trunks' face faltered, instead being replaced by a shadow of apprehension. He was going to make this training session one to remember for the boy.

"But how am I going to be able to stay on par with you when I'm in my base form?" Trunks asked. He hoped stroking Vegeta's pride would help him out of his painful bind.

Vegeta shrugged and readied himself for an attack. "You won't be able to. But that will make you stronger. Did you know Kakarrot doesn't consider you a worthy sparring partner? You're weak, boy. And the end of the world is coming in a few days. You need to be ready."

"Of course he doesn't," Trunks muttered, "There's no way I'd ever be as strong as him."

"What was that?" Vegeta snapped. He rushed forward and with one punch struck Trunks to the floor. "You will never admit to being weaker than that fool third-class clown!"

Rubbing his aching jaw, Trunks sat up and looked questioningly at his furious father. He attacked him for admitting he was weaker than Goku? That made no sense. Why would he care if anyone else was weaker, so long as they didn't accuse _him_ of being weaker? Slowly, he pushed himself back up to his feet and sank into his battle stance, one that strongly reflected his years of training with Gohan in his own timeline. It had a characteristic mix of Piccolo and Goku adopted by the older half-breed and changed to fit Trunks' needs over time. Disgusted as he was that his son was so influenced by the idiot's spawn, Vegeta had to admit to himself that it was nearly flawless.

Trunks took a deep breath and released it slowly as he sized up his father. Despite training in the time chamber for a year together, they never actually trained _with_ each other. They never sparred, never helped one another in any way. Trunks thought maybe it was because Vegeta was purposely trying to stay distant from him in every possible way. His theory wasn't too far off. Yet, even though he stayed away from his son, Vegeta grew to care for him.

The idea of fighting the elder prince was not welcome to Trunks. It wasn't because he feared disrespecting his father. Quite the contrary; he was afraid of losing his father's respect by showing his weakness _or_ by defeating him. It was, in his mind, a lose-lose situation, but backing out would be even worse. So, with as much speed as he could muster in the high gravity, Trunks sprang forward to deliver the first blow of their spar.

But Trunks' fist swept through empty air where his father had been standing not a second earlier. He gasped and looked around frantically trying to locate the flame-haired saiyan. Before he could find him, he felt a sharp pain in the small of his back that floored him.

"Don't use your eyes, boy," Vegeta spat when he'd landed on the floor next to his son. "Use all your senses. A warrior cannot always _see_ his opponent." He kicked Trunks in the ribs to throw him back to his feet.

Somehow, Trunks did manage to land on his feet and immediately turned to face his father. He nodded once, knowing he was going to learn many painful lessons soon. As much as he didn't appreciate the explosion of agony spreading through his body from the point of contact between Vegeta and himself, he knew the lessons were important and would help him greatly in battles to come.

Vegeta crouched down and waited for the next round to start. He could feel his son's ki steadily rising, as if it weren't of his own will. That was what he wanted. He wanted to humiliate and beat the boy until his power increased as his own had. When Trunks phased out of sight, he shoved his elbow back into the boy's solar plexus and leaped away, turning mid-air to keep his opponent in view.

'I've only been in here five minutes and I already feel like I'm dying,' Trunks thought as he stood up straight to face his father. He grit his teeth in frustration and again prepared to attack. 'I know now I can't surprise him with my speed. Going head-on doesn't work either. Guess I'll just have to fool him some other way.'

Smirking as he came up with a new strategy, Trunks levitated a few inches off the floor and got ready to execute his plan. He flung himself toward his father, turning so he could kick his father in the chest, but as expected, Vegeta dropped to the floor to dodge. Seeing his opportunity, Trunks twisted around as he flew over Vegeta and planted his fist in the full-blooded saiyan's stomach. Or at least that's what he tried. He growled in anger when Vegeta easily caught his fist and ax kicked him into the wall.

"Nice try," Vegeta taunted as he phased out of sight. "But your silly games won't win against my experience."

"We'll see about that!" Trunks shouted. He shuddered when he heard his father's dark laughter echoing around the room, making it impossible to find the source.

Vegeta phased behind him and swung his leg around in a roundhouse kick, only to have it blocked by Trunks' forearm. He smirked and, using his momentum from the kick, swung the rest of his body around until his other leg kicked Trunks' neck. "Don't get so cocky you forget to defend yourself when you manage to block one attack," Vegeta's voice pierced through his fading senses.

Trunks collapsed to the floor, barely able to catch himself with his hands before falling forward on his face. His head was spinning from that last blow and his vision kept fading to black. Purely by the force of his will, he dragged himself back to his feet and slowly backed toward the wall, his eyes nervously shifting around the room.

"I'm here, boy!" Vegeta appeared above him and crashed his fists down on his head.

At 6:30, their training was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door of the gravity room. "Hey, 'Geta, I know you're busy and all, but I was wondering if you wanted to jog with me this morning?"

Vegeta groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Leave it to his blue-haired woman to ask him to leave his training when he was just getting started. He didn't notice Trunks' hopeful look as he turned toward the door and stalked over to it. He opened it and caught Bulma as she tumbled in, having been leaning against the closed door.

It wasn't until he heard her shriek of pain and labored breathing that he realized he forgot to disengage the gravity simulator before abruptly opening the door. "Turn off the console!" he growled to Trunks who was standing idly by it.

As the console disengaged, Vegeta supported Bulma as she panted to regain her breath. She lifted her head shakily to look up at him and almost smiled at the veiled concern in his eyes. Probably she was the only one who ever would have been able to see it. "Damn," she whispered, "You train in that gravity?"

His characteristic smirk appeared as he answered, "Woman, that was only 100Gs."

"Only?" she squeaked out. Had he not been holding her up she would have fallen to her knees from the morning's seconds-long exertion and shock.

"Are you alright, Mother?" Trunks asked from behind Vegeta.

Bulma looked around Vegeta and saw her lavender-haired son standing nearby, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Trunks! You're in here with Vegeta?" She turned a knowing smile on Vegeta and ignored the red hue that rose in his cheeks. "Well, then I guess I shouldn't interrupt your training. I don't want my men slacking off."

"No! No, it's fine, really," Trunks shouted, a little too fast. "You can go with her if you'd like, Father. I'll stay here and train by myself."

Vegeta gently pushed Bulma back before turning around to face Trunks. He quirked an eyebrow as his mouth turned down in a frown. "What's the matter, boy? Can't handle training with me?"

Trunks backpedaled a few steps, waving his hands defensively. "It's not that. I enjoyed training with you, actually, but I don't want to ruin your routine. So you can go and I'll train here. I promise?"

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at Bulma over his shoulder. As much as he wanted to continue beating the boy, he wanted very much to go with her, too. Finally, he sighed and nodded slowly. "Yes, I'll go with the woman, but you will continue your training at 150Gs since I won't be here. And don't even think about slacking off because I'll know." The unspoken threat still hanging heavily in the air, Vegeta whirled around and guided Bulma out of the gravity room and slammed the metal door behind them.

"So I take it you had some nice father-son bonding time this morning?" Bulma asked cheekily as they stepped out the front door of the compound.

He snorted and started jogging at their normal pace. "If you call beating him senseless bonding, then yes. The boy is weak. He lacks discipline."

"And you had a whole year to fix that but didn't," she remarked snidely.

He disappointed her by not allowing her to get a rise out of him over her comment. Instead, he shrugged and remained silent for a few minutes while he pondered what she said. They were starting their second mile when he finally confessed, "I was too soft on him."

Bulma shook her head and asked, "Ignoring him is being soft on him? Honestly, Vegeta, I don't understand your way of thinking sometimes."

"Would you rather I shape him into a bloodthirsty monster like me?"

"But Vegeta, you're not –"

"What do I know about raising a son?" he cut her off, "All I know is the art of humiliation and manipulation to mold someone into what I was. I can't be a father to him, no matter what he wants. Or what you want."

"Vegeta, you don't have to raise him. If you haven't noticed, he's almost an adult. And anyway, it's not like he's going to be here much longer, only a few days. Do you want to waste that time and _not_ get to know your son? You'll probably never see him again."

Following her tirade, Vegeta fell into a moody silence that continued for the rest of their jog and all the way through breakfast. When he was finished eating, he promptly left the table to go back to the gravity chamber and work out some of his anger and frustration. He was mad at the woman for making him realize he didn't need to be a father, but also that he was unable to be one even if he wanted to be. He never thought about it before, but now he couldn't get it out of his mind that Trunks would be leaving in a few short days never to be seen again. The small piece of his heart that had softened toward Trunks seemed, much to his chagrin, to be dangerously large. He was infuriated with himself for allowing himself yet another attachment. Another weakness.

After watching his father leave, Trunks turned to Bulma and frowned. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

Bulma sighed and shook her head as she stood to start clearing off the table. Not sure how much she should tell her son, she decided to stay on the safe side as she answered, "A lot of things are on his mind, Trunks. If you want to know, you'll have to ask him. It's not my place to say, and I know it would only make him close himself off more if I said."

"He'll never share anything with me," Trunks complained as he carried a few dishes to the sink where Mrs. Brief was busily washing them.

Bulma stopped in front of her son and cupped his face in her hand, a sad smile on her face. She stroked his cheek with her thumb comfortingly and had to fight back some tears. "That's not entirely true, Trunks. Vegeta cares about you, more than he'll ever let on. He can't and won't hide everything from you. You may not know it, but you've earned his respect and I think deep down he wants to tell you that."

"Why is it so hard for him to just say that, then?" Trunks grumbled. He winced at the anger in his own voice and had to look away from his mother, who looked hurt by his question.

She dropped her hand from his face and returned to her chore, unsure of what she could say to make him understand something even she didn't fully understand. "You have to forgive him. He doesn't know how to open up to others. He learned over the years to keep himself cold and distant from everyone around him. Do you know how hard it was for me to make him see that he could trust me?"

Trunks watched as she put the orange juice back in the refrigerator and wiped off the table and set the decorative bowl of fruit back on it. He was stung by how peaceful their home looked in this time, even though they knew what was coming so soon. Everything was normal, as it should be. Something his home would probably never be in his own timeline. Here his mother was happy and cheerful, young and unburdened by the apocalyptic world around her. She was in love with his father, who was still alive and who loved her back. Or at least cared for her. He shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts and looked out the window to see the beautiful sunny day outside, the view of the city again reminding him that he was in a different world. There were no signs of destruction, none of the devastation the androids caused that he knew.

"Are you alright, Trunks?" he heard his mother ask. He snapped back to reality and gave her a half-hearted smile and nodded.

"I'm fine," he reassured her. "I was just thinking how peaceful this time is. I hope I can bring peace like this back to my own timeline."

"Hey, don't worry about that," Bulma said, her voice lighter than she felt, "As soon as you boys finish off that Cell monster, you'll go back to your time and free it from the androids."

"You really think so?"

Bulma nodded and patted his back as she went to the door of the kitchen. "You're stronger now, and you've learned a lot from the others while you've been here. And you still have a few days to train with Vegeta. Anyway, I need to get to my lab and get some work done. I'll see you at lunch, honey."

After she disappeared down the hall Trunks exhaled heavily and ran his hands through his lavender hair. He hoped with everything he had that she was right about him being able to go home and save Earth from the androids – and Cell. She was right about one thing, though. He still had time to train with his father, and he intended to do just that. Eight days wasn't much, but considering how much he already learned in an hour that morning, there were countless more things Vegeta could teach him in a few short days. And he was going to get stronger if it killed him. He spent two hours training before breakfast at 150Gs, as Vegeta told him to do. By the end it was actually getting a little easier. That boosted his confidence and made him want to go back for more training torture.

A few minutes later, Vegeta was again interrupted by a knock on the door. He growled and batted away a ball of energy before stalking over to the door to open it and give whoever dared interrupt him a piece of his mind. When he threw the door open, he saw Trunks standing on the other side, looking nervous yet determined.

"What do you want, now, boy?" he snarled, his tail flicking angrily from side to side.

Trunks lifted his chin and looked down his nose at his father, demanding respect. "I want to train more, Father."

Vegeta sneered at him but stepped to the side to allow him entrance, only barring the way with his arm as he told him, "You can train with me if you can make it across the room without ascending or collapsing."

The boy's eyes immediately shot over to the console to see how high the gravity was at the time. He swallowed hard when he saw that it was at Vegeta's 'warm-up' level of 850Gs. He could hardly stand under 150Gs earlier that day, how could he add another 700Gs to that and not get squashed like a bug? He set his jaw in determination and looked back to his father, who was waiting for an answer to his challenge.

Trunks brushed his father's arm aside and with a deep breath took his first step into the gravity room. He felt immediate strain on his body that made him feel as if he were being pulled into a black hole beneath his feet. With an agonized groan he took another step until he was all the way in the room. Suddenly, the distance to the other side of the room seemed impossibly long. He felt his knees shaking under his immense weight and raised his ki as high as he could without transforming into a super saiyan.

Vegeta casually walked over to the console and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest and tail twitching with a cross between amusement and irritation. This was a good way to test the boy's willpower and strength. He figured even if the boy couldn't make it, he would give him his micro-gravity simulator and let him train on his own until he was able to move freely in at least 300Gs. He wanted the boy to become stronger, but he wasn't willing to slow down his own training to accomplish that goal.

He watched as the boy took step after agonizing step, so slowly he sometimes wondered if he would move again at all. "Come on, boy," he teased, "I haven't got all day."

Trunks grit his teeth and tried to ignore his father's comment. He knew he was trying to rile him up and it wasn't going to work. He was going to make it across the room if it killed him. At the moment he wasn't so sure it wouldn't. When he was only a quarter of the way across the room he nearly fell to his knees. He stopped to take a breather even as Vegeta continued to attack his weakness. He'd like to see someone else try this task with more success.

Secretly, Vegeta was proud of Trunks' accomplishment. It may have sounded like the easiest thing in the world to do: walk across a room. But he knew that Trunks weighed almost 100 tons. Walking across the room was not easy, even though his ki was flared extremely high. He could sense it waning already, and the boy hadn't even made it halfway across the room yet. Though he was verbally humiliating the boy, inside he was encouraging him. In a way, he wished he could either stop his snide remarks or voice what he was saying in his mind. But his pride wouldn't allow either option.

He was brought back to his senses when he heard Trunks cry out in pain, his body hardly upright anymore. His knees were only inches from the floor, but somehow he had managed to stop himself in his fall. He raised himself back to a standing position slowly and shakily, but he did it and practically threw his foot in front of him again and continued his trial.

When Trunks reached the halfway point, Vegeta decided to give the boy an offer. "You've made it surprisingly far, weak as you are," he told Trunks. "So I'll let you choose one of two options: Ascend and do lunges the rest of the way, or don't ascend and crawl."

Trunks turned to glare at his father. He knew that either way he would be humiliated further. Either way, he would admit being too weak to finish the job he started. Well, Vegeta never said he couldn't finish walking without ascending. He turned back to the far wall and took another step forward.

Seeing Trunks reject both of the easier choices made Vegeta smirk. He knew he wouldn't take either option, proud as he was. His pride may have been smaller than his own, but it couldn't be ignored. And so, for the next 15 minutes he somewhat patiently waited for Trunks to finish his laborious task, immediately collapsing to the floor covered in sweat and breathing raggedly with a grunt of pain.

Vegeta turned around and disengaged the gravity console to give his son a short reprieve from the tremendous weight on his body. "Well, boy," he said conversationally as he walked over to the panting teenager, "You're more stubborn than I gave you credit for. Impressive."

Trunks hardly realized the compliment as he worked to recover from the strain his body had endured. He tilted his head up to look at Vegeta who was now crouching down in front of him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but not unkind. Vegeta reached out to him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him to his feet as he stood up.

"I guess that means you can train with me," he said nonchalantly as he turned to go back to the gravity console. He heard Trunks take in a shaky breath and stopped in his tracks, shooting a glance over his shoulder. The teenager was slumped back against the wall and appeared ready to collapse again. He rolled his eyes and stalked back over to him. "Don't tell me you're too tired to train now," he spat.

"No," Trunks panted, "I can do it. Give me a minute."

"Hn," he grunted as he went back over to the console. While he was waiting for Trunks to recuperate he turned the gravity back down to 100Gs and hovered his hand over the engage button, debating internally with himself whether to start yet or not.

Trunks staggered away from the wall and straightened his back, returning to his proud posture fitting of a saiyan prince. "Do it."

Vegeta glanced over at him again and tried to disregard his own hesitation. "You asked for it, boy," he muttered as he hit the engage button. Seconds later he felt the familiar weight increase and leaned casually against the console to see how his son was doing. To his surprise, Trunks was still standing proudly as if asking for more.

"At least you've improved since this morning," he quipped. Without warning he phased over and landed a punch in the boy's chest, nearly knocking him back into the wall.

Trunks coughed and rubbed his aching chest, glowering at Vegeta. "What the hell?"

Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "What? Do you expect your enemy to tell you what he's doing before he attacks? Always be on guard." That said, he phased out of view and started firing ki blasts at Trunks as he ran the circumference of the room.

Trunks growled and gasped in pain when he was hit by one blast he wasn't fast enough to dodge. He fell to the floor and rolled out of the way of another attack. They weren't large enough to cause any serious damage, but they still packed a punch. He decided it was time to stop being on the defensive and went into attack mode when he sensed out where Vegeta was.

'I wonder if lunch is ready yet,' Bulma thought as she stood up from her desk and stretched. She'd been working at her computer since breakfast and was ready for a break. She only took three steps before the entire compound shook, knocking her off her feet. She crashed to the ground with a squeal of surprise before jumping back to her feet and running up the stairs and down the hall toward the gravity room.

When she saw the door to the gravity room on the opposite wall and a cloud of smoke coming out the open doorway, she started screaming. "Oh Kami! Vegeta! Vegeta, are you ok? Vegeta!" She stopped at the doorway and looked in, but all she could see was smoke billowing out. There were no sounds coming from inside. Without a second thought she used the emergency controls to disengage the gravity simulator and ran inside to find the saiyan.

She didn't get far before she tripped over something and fell again. She cursed under her breath as she turned around and crawled over to the obstacle and wasn't surprised to find that it was the person she was looking for. She could hardly see for the smoke and tears it caused, but she knew it was Vegeta. She grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him. "Vegeta! Wake up!"

Her head whipped around to the side when she heard coughing coming from a few feet away and her heart sank. Who other than her son would be training with Vegeta in the gravity room? She couldn't tell how badly injured Vegeta was, but maybe Trunks was at least conscious and able to help her get him out of the room. She covered her mouth with her hand and stumbled over to where she thought she heard the coughing.

"Trunks?" she wheezed out. She was starting to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen.

"Mother?" she heard him croak in response. No doubt his throat was dry and sore from the smoke. "What are you doing in here? Where's father?"

Bulma knelt in front of the boy when she saw him and looked him over the best she could in the thick smoke. "Are you alright?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"I'm fine," he said, shoving her prodding hand away. Even if he wasn't injured, he was still sore and didn't want her poking him and causing more pain. "But where's father?"

"Over there," she said, pointing in the general direction. "I think he's unconscious. We need to get him out of here so I can check him over." That said, she covered her mouth again and crawled back over to where Vegeta was, Trunks following right behind.

When they reached him, Trunks picked him up and slung him over his shoulder and motioned for Bulma to lead the way out. He was completely disoriented and didn't know which way the door was. Bulma led the way, moving quickly to get out of the smoke before she died of asphyxiation. Her lungs and throat were burning and she had tears running down her cheeks.

Once in the hallway, they got back up on their feet and ran down the hall toward the infirmary. Away from the smoke, Bulma could see that both Vegeta and Trunks were super saiyans, and they were battered and bruised. Evidently they didn't pull punches in training.

Bulma took them into a small room in the infirmary where Trunks laid Vegeta down on the examination table. He didn't think the explosion had done any lasting damage, but managed to knock him out. He sat down in the chair in the corner of the room while Bulma hooked Vegeta up to various machines, something she was apparently well-practiced in doing.

"Trunks," she said, addressing her son for the first time since leaving the gravity room. "Was there a fire in there, or was all the smoke from the explosion?"

"Just from the explosion."

She nodded and groaned when she saw that Vegeta's blood oxygen level was low. She got him hooked up with a breathing tube. Trunks wasn't coughing anymore and he looked well enough. Figuring he was fine, she turned back to Vegeta. She didn't feel bad about ignoring any possible problems Trunks _could_ have since he was half saiyan and most likely really wasn't suffering any adverse effects from the smoke. Vegeta probably was because he was unconscious so he wasn't breathing deeply enough to provide his body enough oxygen.

"So you want to tell me what happened?" she asked, gently stroking Vegeta's hair.

Trunks grinned and rubbed the back of his neck in an almost Son-like manner. "Well, we were sparring, and I guess I finally caught him by surprise. Only took me a few hours."

Bulma looked over at him and smiled. She was sure Vegeta's ego would be hurting a little for a while, but at the same time he would be proud that his son was able to best him in a fight after a few short hours of training together. She kissed Vegeta's forehead and motioned for Trunks to follow her out of the room and closed the door quietly behind them.

"That's great, Trunks," she said and playfully punched his shoulder. "He's going to be pissed when he wakes up though."

The boy shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, a wide smirk on his face that made his relation to Vegeta unmistakable. "He asked for it."

Bulma chuckled and shook her head. "What am I going to do with you saiyans? Always beating each other up, I'm just waiting for the whole place to come crashing down around me." She slapped her arms against her sides in a sign of defeat and started walking back down the hall to go to the kitchen. Her stomach was growling and she wanted to eat her lunch. Vegeta would be fine where he was.

"Let's get something to eat," she called over her shoulder when she realized Trunks wasn't coming with her.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at the kitchen table eating the mountain of food Mrs. Brief cooked for lunch when the door burst open and Vegeta strode in, clearly in a foul mood. He growled when he saw Trunks and the tip of his tail twitched in agitation. He sat down across from Bulma in his usual place and started eating as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Trunks and Bulma exchanged a glance and had to shove more food in their mouths to keep from laughing. Vegeta's behavior was too predictable to them. And, as expected, Vegeta said not a word through the meal and immediately got up to continue his training when he was finished. But what wasn't expected was what he said on his way out the door: "Boy, get off your lazy ass and get back to your training."

It took a minute for Trunks to get over his shock and close his gaping mouth before he jumped out of his chair, toppling it over in his haste, and ran out of the kitchen back to the gravity chamber. His body protested violently against him training any more that day, especially with Vegeta, but he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to prove himself to his father.

When he reached the gravity room, he found Vegeta standing in front of the console with arms crossed over his chest and tail lashing angrily behind him. He turned when he sensed Trunks approaching and walked back out of the room. "The damn thing's broken," he growled.

"So what are we going to do?" Trunks asked, running to catch up with his father who was stalking back the way they came.

"Get the woman to fix it. Until then, we'll train outside."

As they walked through the halls, Vegeta sensed for Bulma's ki and found her back in her lab. He went to the door and kicked it open, knocking it off its hinges for the umpteenth time. "Woman," he yelled, "Fix the gravity console at once!"

Bulma shot up from her seat at her desk and whirled around to face the angry saiyan, a ferocious scowl of her own on her face. "Vegeta, you can't come here and break my door whenever you blow up your stupid toy!"

Vegeta leaped over the rail and landed only inches in front of her and snarled. "I don't give a damn about your door. Fix the fucking console so I can get back to my training. Or do you want to die in a few days?"

She rolled her eyes at him and turned away from him in dismissal. "Oh whatever, as if eight days of training is going to be enough to make that much of a difference. You're either strong enough to defeat Cell now or you're never going to be, so don't give me that crap. I'll fix it when I have time, which I don't today. So go train in the yard."

He grabbed her arm and spun her back around. "You insufferable wench, do it now!"

Bulma glared at him for a minute before replying, "I will do it later, you stubborn jerk. Now leave me alone so I can get this project done and then I can fix it."

Vegeta took a step forward, backing her up against the desk and growled again. "I don't know how I've managed to keep myself from killing you this long," he breathed in her ear.

She sighed when she realized his anger was mostly show, for who she didn't know. Either himself or her and Trunks. He was genuinely irritated with the gravity console being broken, but taking his anger out on her was nothing more than a tough-guy façade. Inside she laughed at his show. She smirked and leaned against his chest. "It's because you like me," she whispered.

They heard their son clearing his throat awkwardly at the top of the stairs and pulled away from each other. Bulma self-consciously smoothed out her clothes while Vegeta turned and went back upstairs, his tail tight around his waist.

"Damn I want this whole thing to be over soon," she mumbled as she returned to work.

_A/N: More fun with Vegeta and Trunks. Hope you enjoyed!  
_

_Song: "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba_


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

_Tell me you want me 'cause I don't believe you  
__Feeling frustration, I'm feeling frustration  
__Life is the slowest form of suicide  
__Feeling frustration, I'm feeling frustration_

The next two days passed without incident. Trunks and Vegeta trained together in the yard of Capsule Corp while Bulma worked on fixing the console in the gravity room. It was almost completely obliterated so she had to practically rebuild it from scratch, much to Vegeta's chagrin. He gave his micro-gravity simulator to Trunks so the boy could make greater gains in his strength, so by the time the gravity room was up and running again, he was overly eager to resume his intense level of training. Two days stuck at the pathetic gravity of Earth was too long.

So, with five days left before the Cell Games, Trunks and Vegeta were back in the gravity room training as hard as ever. Trunks had made great gains in strength in the three days he'd spent sparring with his father. He was now able to train under 300Gs and put up a good fight against the elder saiyan.

To his credit, Vegeta was staying very patient with Trunks at the expense of his own training. He could have taken back his micro-gravity simulator and ignored Trunks, but he was determined to make the boy more powerful than Kakarrot. Maybe even himself, though he didn't think that was entirely possible given the short period of time they had left. Trunks was planning on returning to the future as soon as Cell was defeated so he could destroy the androids in his own timeline and bring peace to the planet after many years of living in fear.

As usual, the entire compound was rocking with the force of the two incredible powers exchanging blows in the gravity room. Bulma had evacuated the building to 'catch up' on work at the headquarters building and Mrs. Brief had decided that, what with the world ending and all, she needed to spend her days shopping while the sales were going on. And Dr. Brief had left for headquarters and hadn't been seen for two days straight. Trunks and Vegeta hardly noticed the absence of the Briefs family, for they were far too absorbed in their training.

"That was a lucky shot, boy!" Vegeta roared as he pulled himself out of an indent in the wall and started bombarding the room with ki blasts as he followed his son who was frantically trying to stay ahead of the attack.

Trunks phased out of sight and grunted in pain when Vegeta whipped around and dug his knee into his solar plexus. He quickly regained his composure and swung around in a roundhouse kick that only barely missed Vegeta. In an instant they both disappeared from view and only shockwaves resulting from their hand-to-hand combat gave away the fact that anyone was in the room.

Seconds later there was a loud crash as Trunks met the floor in a violent encounter. He spat out a mouthful of blood and ducked under a kick aimed at his head before leaping back to his feet and phasing to where his father was. He threw a punch that Vegeta caught and yanked himself away. "Stop holding back!" he shouted as he threw another ki-infused fist at Vegeta.

Vegeta caught the fist again and smirked before grabbing the boy's arm and swinging him around, building momentum until he released him and threw him into the ceiling. Before his son could react he sent a volley of strong ki blasts at him until the only thing visible where the lavender-haired teenager had been was a cloud of smoke.

His triumphant smirk was quickly removed when he heard the loud screeching noise of metal beams bending and concrete crumbling. When the smoke cleared he saw that there was a hole in the ceiling, giving him a clear view of the sunny cloudless sky overhead. That was when he realized what the ominous sound was: the structural integrity of the gravity room had been compromised and within a minute the high gravity was going to cause the place to collapse – with him inside. Knowing he didn't have enough time to disengage the gravity console, he flew out the hole and watched as the room collapsed in a smoldering heap of rubble.

He crossed his arms over his chest and slowly lowered himself to the ground, his eyebrow arching as he surveyed the damage. "Shit."

He didn't bother looking when he felt Trunks come up behind him and stand next to him, also looking at the destroyed gravity room. They stood there silently for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. They'd accidentally destroyed the gravity room. It wouldn't be a quick fix like all the times they damaged the gravity console. Finally, Vegeta sighed and looked off to the side in the direction of the Capsule Corp headquarters building.

"I suppose that effectively ends our training for today," he verbally shrugged as he again took to the air. He knew he needed to tell his blue-haired scientist about what happened, but he wasn't looking forward to it. He could already feel the ringing in his ears from her screaming.

Trunks groaned when he thought about his father's fate. He, too, knew the power of Bulma's voice and cringed at the idea of having it directed against him. So he was uncertain about following Vegeta to break the news to his mother. In the end, he decided against it, instead sneaking back to the kitchen to grab a snack and hide out in his room until the storm blew over.

"Coward," Vegeta muttered when he noticed Trunks staying behind. Not that he could blame the boy. He sighed and sped up a little, eager to have the unpleasant ordeal over with. When he reached the Capsule Corp building he dropped to the ground and stared up at the windows of Bulma's office. He pinched the bridge of his nose before proudly rolling his shoulders back and lifting his chin, ready to march to his demise without faltering. His eye twitched when he entered the building and heard the receptionist's cheerful greeting. Ignoring her, he strode over to the elevator and allowed his hand to hover by the 'up' button for a few seconds before pushing it.

For the first time he could remember the doors of the elevator opened immediately. He cursed it under his breath as he stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button that would take him to Bulma's floor. His expression fell back into stoicism as he crossed his arms over his chest and tightened his tail around his waist. When he heard the pleasant ding that told him he reached his destination he entered the code that would allow him access to the vice president's office suite before the doors would open.

The first thing he saw as the doors slid apart was the flash of blue across the room, the crown of the heiress. To both his relief and chagrin, she didn't even acknowledge him as he moved through the suite toward her. He stopped when he was in front of her desk and tapped his fingers against his arm as he waited for her to look up.

"What are you doing here, Vegeta?" she asked, never looking up from her paperwork.

His eye twitched again as his brain conjured up images of what to expect in the next five minutes. He shook his head to force those thoughts away before answering, "The gravity room has been destroyed. I need you to build a new one."

He watched with trepidation as the pen she was writing with came to a standstill, but she still uttered no sound. He took a breath to continue, maybe explain what happened, but he saw her raise her hand to stop him before she finally looked up at him, her eyes smoldering with fury.

"What do you mean it's destroyed?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

Vegeta frowned and met her gaze, his eyes just as fierce as hers. His fingers resumed their tapping against his arm as he considered what to say. "I blasted a hole through the roof and the gravity caused the room to collapse in on itself."

Bulma didn't break eye contact as she stood up from her chair, stalked around her desk and jabbed her finger in the saiyan's chest. "You can't just ruin the whole damn thing and then expect me to drop everything and rebuild it! Besides, I can't have it done in five days even if I started this minute, so there's no point in trying. So just go back to the compound and train with Trunks in the yard again. Honestly, Vegeta!" she shouted as she threw her arms in the air and scowled at him, "I just got the console fixed last night! And now the whole room is demolished!"

"You make it sound as if I did it on purpose," he growled, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"Maybe you did," she hissed. "You love being a pain in my ass!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and leaned against her desk. "Woman, I would never purposely do something to make you scream like a banshee at me. Anyway, I do not expect the gravity room to be rebuilt before Cell's tournament. I am well aware of your limitations," he added snidely.

Bulma huffed angrily and put her hands on her hips as she glowered at the saiyan prince. She'd expected him to demand she build it in two days or less, so she was thrown off by his acceptance of her refusal to try rebuilding it before the Cell Games. But she didn't appreciate the slight against her abilities, no matter how realistic it was. Finally, she took a deep breath to calm herself and nodded as she went back around her desk and sat down.

"You and Trunks weren't hurt?" she asked after a lengthy pause in the conversation.

"There were no injuries sustained," he informed her. Seeing that her screaming had come to an end, he released the tension in his body and unwrapped his tail from his waist. Considering what he had done, his punishment was lacking in severity. Not that he was going to complain.

Bulma nodded again even though he was facing away from her and couldn't see it. She picked up her pen to resume her work, but it was knocked out of her hand when Vegeta's tail twitched to the side. She snorted and picked up her pen again, but as before it was knocked out of her hand by the saiyan's twitching tail. She looked up, but Vegeta was still facing away from her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. Trying one more time, she picked up her pen, keeping her eyes on the saiyan to see if he was doing it on purpose. She growled when the pen was once again knocked from her hand and there was no sign he even saw what he was doing. She slammed her hand against the desk and sat back in her chair.

"Is there a reason you're still here?" she bit out.

"Hn?" he grunted in response. He looked over his shoulder at her and wondered why she was glaring at him. It's not like he did anything to incur her ire again. He'd just been thinking about how he was going to train for the next few days without the gravity room.

Bulma sighed and rubbed her forehead, feeling the start of a headache coming on. "If you're going to stand there, would you please remove your tail from my desk so I can work?"

Before she finished her question his mind had already drifted away again. She realized this when he made no attempt to move his tail. 'Fine, you want to play it that way?' she thought, a mischievous smirk spreading across her face. Instead of batting the troublesome tail away, she started stroking it from base to tip. His tail stopped twitching around and stilled until only the tip was curled and beating rhythmically against her desk. She knew his mind was on something else when he allowed her to touch his tail and got to the point where he started purring.

She couldn't help herself as she marveled at the softness of the fur on his tail. She'd felt it before, but it was always a surprise to her. How could a race of big, tough warriors have such silky soft fur on their tails? She flinched when his tail wrapped around her wrist, thinking he was going to angrily reprimand her for touching it. But no reprimand came. Biting her lip, she dared a glance up at the saiyan and saw his black eyes fixed on her, but there was no familiar blaze of anger in them.

Immediately, she stopped her ministrations and tucked her hands in her lap – or tried to. His tail wouldn't release her wrist. She smiled nervously as he smirked in amusement. "What do you think you're doing, Woman?" he asked.

"Don't ask me that!" she nearly shouted in defense. "Your tail was on _my_ desk so I'd say it was fair game if I wanted to touch it. I asked you to move it and you didn't."

He chuckled and dropped his tail from her wrist as he turned around to face her fully. "What have I told you about stroking my tail like that?"

"Don't do it," she murmured.

"Do you remember why?" he asked, lowering himself to her eye level.

She shrugged one shoulder and looked at her hands that were wringing in her lap.

Seeing her discomfort was pleasantly satisfactory. He knew she was only uncomfortable because she knew what touching his tail in that manner could do to him and she knew she wasn't supposed to do that to him. At least not yet. He was just lucky she hadn't had _much_ effect on him this time or he would be the one who was humiliated. He reached out and lifted her chin so she had to meet his eyes.

"You'll have to wait a few more days for that," he teased her, shaking his finger in front of her face. "I know I'm irresistible, but show some restraint, Woman."

He turned away from her as all her blood rushed to her face in a deep blush. She watched with relief as he walked over to the elevator and pushed the button to take him back down to the main level.

"That woman is going to be the death of me," he grumbled after the elevator doors shut behind him.

"That saiyan is going to be the death of me," Bulma muttered as she went back to work.

Vegeta landed in the yard behind the Capsule Corp compound and immediately began his kata. There was no point in wasting time just because he didn't have the gravity room to train in anymore. He didn't even bother with the micro-gravity simulator. He was content to train alone for the first time in a few days, so he didn't seek out Trunks for a spar.

Inside, Trunks felt his father's ki and went out to his balcony to watch as his father trained by himself. Though he'd been fighting with him for days, he was impressed with his technique when his movements were able to flow smoothly in a well-practiced routine. He sat on the balcony railing and quietly observed his father as he went through his kata. An increasingly familiar stab of pain shot through his chest as his mind once again wandered to the what-could-have-been in his own timeline had the androids not destroyed his world. He could have grown up with his father and learned martial arts from him and been able to mimic the masterpiece being played out before him in the back yard. He sighed wistfully and closed his eyes, trying to block out the unwanted thoughts and desires he could do nothing to satisfy.

Several minutes passed before Trunks became frustrated enough with his thoughts to get up and go back inside, having convinced himself he needed a break from training anyway. He decided to go to the recreation room and watch a movie, but as he was walking down the hall he passed his father's room and came to a stop. He looked around uneasily as curiosity set in. What did he really know about his father anyway? That he's a battle-hardened warrior and prince of a dead race with a hot temper and an ego the size of the galaxy. In other words, not much, only the basics.

Trunks hesitated before slowly pushing the door open until he could see into the room. The balcony doors were closed with the curtains drawn so there was little light streaming in. From what he could see, there wasn't much _to_ see. The room was bare. He shrugged and went to pull the door closed, but again he hesitated.

'Why do I want to look around when there's nothing to see? If he catches me in here he'll probably beat me,' he thought as he looked over his shoulder and sensed for his father's ki, which was still in the yard moving around as if he was in a fight. He swallowed hard and took a few steps into the room and scanned over the contents of the room in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity. But it wasn't working. He needed to see everything.

With a sigh of resignation, Trunks moved deeper into the dark room. He saw that there was nothing on the dresser, the bed looked like it had never been slept in (which it hadn't), and there was nothing out of place. It was neat and orderly to a fault. Had Vegeta's scent not been strong in the room he would have wondered if he was in the right room to be exploring. He walked over to the dresser and pulled the drawers out, but there was nothing of interest inside. Just neatly folded clothes all meticulously sorted.

"So, lesson learned: Father is a neat freak," he mumbled as he pushed the last drawer shut and crossed the room to look in the closet. There he saw more clothes hanging in order according to type and color. There was a pair of white boots underneath the clothes and a laundry hamper that had some dirty clothes in it. The shelves on the wall across from the clothes were empty.

When he thought he heard a soft thump, Trunks nearly jumped out of his skin. He did a quick scan for his father's ki and found it still in the backyard. "Is someone there?" he asked. No one answered, so he shrugged and turned back to his exploration.

"What's that?" he whispered when he caught sight of something white behind the hanging clothes. He pushed them aside and found an old breastplate that looked like it had seen better days. He pulled it out and inspected it more closely. There were gaping holes with cracked edges on both the front and back and a small circular hole over the heart on the front and a matching hole in the back. There were brass buttons on the shoulders, but nothing else. Shrugging, he put the armor back in its place and turned around to leave the closet, half expecting to find Vegeta standing in the doorway blocking his path and demanding an explanation. But there was no flame-haired saiyan in sight.

It wasn't until he closed the closet door behind him that he noticed the large pile of pillows, blankets, and an odd assortment of soft scraps of cloth of various types on the floor between the bed and the balcony doors. He raised an eyebrow as he walked over to it to examine it more closely. There were towels, rags, blankets, pillows, cushions, sheets, silk napkins, and other random pieces of fabric piled together in what looked like a strange nest. "What in the world is this?" Trunks asked as he nudged a pillow with his foot, as if encouraging it to answer.

His question still unanswered, he again shrugged and turned his attention to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Before he went in he again searched for his father's ki and was relieved to find it still bouncing around in the back yard. His fear again eased, he went into the bathroom and looked in the shower first, only seeing one bottle of shampoo and a plain bar of soap. That wasn't entirely unexpected, so he opened the cupboard and found a stack of folded towels. He was getting bored with his father's lack of possessions by the time he pulled open the drawers under the sink and found a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste and a package of extra toilet paper.

"Doesn't he own anything?" he asked with exasperation. He wasn't learning anything new about his father that he didn't already know. The only thing left to catch his eye was the towel hanging on the door and the soap next to the sink. "Well, this was a productive investigation," he told himself sarcastically. "I've learned my father is organized to the point of being OCD and rejects material possessions."

He stomped out of the room, practically slamming the door behind him and went to the rec. room to watch the movie as he planned to do in the first place. He threw himself down on the couch in front of the TV and proceeded to sulk over his unsatisfied curiosity.

A couple hours later Bulma returned to the compound and was relieved to find the compound still intact minus the gravity room. She went inside and kicked her shoes off next to the front door and leaned back against it, unready to face two over-energetic saiyans after a long day at work dealing with incompetent idiots the rest of the world considered brilliant. She held her face in her hands as she summoned the strength to venture further into the compound.

"What's wrong with you, Woman?" she heard a deep voice grouse from down the hall. She slid her hands down her face and dropped them to her sides as she watched the saiyan prince striding toward her.

She shook her head and stood up straight. "Nothing, I'm just tired," she muttered. At least she knew her mother was home because she could smell the heavenly aroma of food cooking. That was one less task for her to complete that night.

"Why should you be tired?" he quipped, backing her against the door with his arms braced against the wall on either side of her. "It's not like you've done anything today."

"Haven't done anything!" she repeated angrily, "I've been busy all day!"

Vegeta smirked at the upset woman and leaned in so he could sniff her neck and drown himself in her scent. "You give yourself too much credit," he drawled. "But if you think your day was so busy, I'll just have to help you relax."

Bulma's anger melted away when he licked her neck and gently bit her earlobe. "Feeling frisky tonight, huh?" she asked in a husky voice as her hands stroked down his chest and dipped down across his abs.

He chuckled softly and kissed along her jaw until he reached her lips and pulled back. "I'm merely bored, Woman." He watched with amusement as indignation became increasingly evident in her expression. When she opened her mouth to retort he kissed her to keep her quiet.

Anger once again melting away, Bulma gave herself over to the saiyan and kissed back hungrily. She growled in frustration when he once again pulled back and smirked smugly at her. "I'd say you're the one who wants to play," he purred.

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the saiyan. "What the hell do you want from me, Vegeta?" she snapped.

'That feistiness,' he answered mentally. He pushed away from the wall and moved his hands to her hips and pulled her body flush against himself. "Who says I want anything?"

She reached up and tangled her hands in his feathery mane and pulled him down to kiss him, which he willingly let her do. When she stopped to get some air, he bent down to again inhale her scent. "What do _you_ want, Woman?" he breathed. He forced her back against the door and spread her legs with his knee and nipped up and down her neck.

"Don't do this to me," she whimpered into his flame of hair. She had to restrain herself from grinding against his leg when she felt a painful burning sensation in her body as it responded to the saiyan's closeness.

"Don't do what?" he asked as he slid his hands up her sides, pulling her blouse up.

She released a shaky breath and arched her back when she felt his hands tracing her bra. "Not here," she murmured, "Someone will see us."

"Who cares?"

Bulma moaned softly when she felt his warm breath on her chest. "I do. Please, Vegeta, let's go somewhere more private."

She heard his devilishly sexy laugh as he slid his hands down to her ass and picked her up with her legs around his waist and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. He shut the door behind them and carried her across the room but didn't stop at the bed. Instead he went all the way to the balcony doors and slid them open and went outside and set her down on the railing.

"I said private, not where the whole world can see," she laughed as she pulled him closer.

"Who will see us here?" Vegeta argued as he pulled her blouse off and threw it to the side. His hands moved down and unbuttoned her pants before pushing them down her legs. He cast them aside along with her blouse and positioned himself between her legs.

Bulma wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in closer until she could feel his excitement. "I guess that's true," she murmured as she pressed her lips against his hard chest. She indulged in his salty flavor as she was surrounded by his strong scent.

Vegeta ran his fingers through her hair before roughly tugging it to pull her head back. She winced in pain but soon forgot it when she felt his lips against her own. She sighed and relaxed into his grip as he slid his arms around her body and pulled her flush against him. He deepened the kiss forcefully, his tongue demanding entrance to her mouth.

The scent of her arousal was clouding his mind as he kissed her harder until he was sure he was bruising her lips. He knew he should stop but couldn't, not until she protested. His calloused hands scraped up and down her smooth back, wanting to touch and know every inch of her body.

Bulma slid her hands to his shoulders and dug her fingers into his hard muscles, though he hardly felt it. But she knew he liked it because she felt his excitement grow the deeper she dug her fingers into his flesh. She felt his growl of desire vibrating through his chest and shivered in her own excitement. Suddenly five days felt like an unbearably long time and she wanted nothing more than to give herself to him without restraint at that moment.

As if sensing this, Vegeta forced himself to pull himself out of her grasp and took a few steps back from her. Only then did he notice the erection he was sporting. Turning away from her with a slight flush in his cheeks, he flicked his tail in embarrassment and mumbled something about a few days remaining. He had to escape her scent before he turned back around and lost himself to his primitive desire. And so he fled from her presence and locked himself in his own room for a solid hour before he dared show himself again.

While this behavior was not new to Bulma, it was still frustrating. As much as she knew he wanted her, deep down she wondered if he wasn't just playing with her heart. Rational thought was overshadowed by feelings of rejection each time he turned away from her after an intimate moment. The mantra of 'until the androids are defeated' rang through her mind, but it was beginning to seem like an empty promise. When would the androids ever be defeated? It was taking so much longer than either of them anticipated. Maybe they were waiting for what might never occur. Then what? Will they find that they've wasted precious time when they could have been together because they insisted on waiting?

'Vegeta, do you really want me?' she asked him in her head. She sighed and trudged back into her room and flopped down on her bed, staring glumly at the ceiling. 'Sometimes I don't believe you do. Maybe you're just toying with me like a cat with a mouse. And I foolishly play along because I want to believe you really _do_ want me. But how can I deny your attraction to me? I can feel it when you're with me. Still, that's all physical. Is it just lust?'

Bulma covered her eyes with her arm and groaned. She didn't like where her mind was taking her and tried to pull herself from her self-pity. She couldn't help her frustration. It could only be expected when the man she loved kept teasing her so mercilessly. He would advance on her and then when she responded, he pulled away and left her without release. She could never know how much he hurt himself with his actions, but then she wasn't considering his perspective. She was too preoccupied with her own discouragement.

Late that night Vegeta was tossing and turning, unable to sleep. His thoughts were running in the same vein as Bulma's after their short session together. He wasn't questioning whether or not she wanted him, but he was questioning whether waiting was a wise decision. It was killing him inside every time he turned away from her, knowing he might be fighting to his death in less than a week.

Vegeta snorted and rolled onto his back for what must have been the hundredth time that night. He stared up blankly at the ceiling and crossed his arms beneath his head. 'Life, to me, has always been about death. If not the death of others, then my own death. I've always walked a thin line between life and death. Death has always been lurking in the shadows, and for once I am not ready to welcome it, no matter how honorable it might be. It has been my silent companion throughout my life. Once death welcomed me in its cold embrace, but as if it were a dream I rose from the dead and now I live a new life. Why, then, is my life still warped around it?'

The saiyan prince was not unfamiliar with such a line of thinking. He didn't know the number of times he considered his own death, even considered taking his own life to escape his living hell. But then he would have just gone to the ethereal hell. It made no difference. Life to him was death. For years he felt like a walking corpse, dead and empty on the inside, though still fighting to survive on the outside. Not that he wanted to live, not really. He just had certain obligations he needed to fulfill before dying: kill Frieza, destroy the androids, and then kill Kakarrot and reclaim his place as most powerful being in the universe. But now he had a new goal: mating with his blue-haired human woman from the backwater planet he resided on. He couldn't understand why that goal was constantly being set back when he should have embraced it while he had the chance. Now he wondered if he'd waited too long and would never get the chance at happiness he stole when he was brought back to life – accidentally or not.

The life he chose was a life that taunted death. He fought tooth and nail to survive for years and now, when he could choose peace, he continues to fight a battle that isn't his for the glory he didn't need. It wasn't as if his ego could get any bigger anyway. Yet, large as it was, it was fragile and easily broken; had he refused to help defeat the androids three years ago he would have been admitting fear of the coming threat. Had he backed down from the fight with Cell he would have admitted he was the weaker warrior. He couldn't do it. He _had_ to fight. It was in his blood. He was a warrior. A prince, yes, but a prince of a warrior race. His identity was established through battle. It was a part of him. He became himself by facing death again and again until it took him.

He had so little time before he faced what could be his second and final death. He wondered if he had redeemed himself at all, let alone his whole race. He feared dying again and never having the chance to be with Bulma. There were times he nearly let the beast inside free when he was with her. He wanted her so badly it was painful, until he felt like he would explode with his unsatisfied desires, with the pent-up tension he wouldn't allow himself to release. He was still clinging to his honor because he knew without that he was nothing. But that didn't mean he didn't want to shed it like a dead skin sometimes.

Vegeta turned to his side and curled up with his head held in his hands. He closed his eyes and tried to will sleep to come, but it failed to come as it had for the past hour. 'I do not wish to think about these things,' his mind screamed. 'I have nothing to worry about because I will _not_ be defeated by Cell. I, personally, will kill him and then I will mate with the woman.'

That settled, he yawned and rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head. If sleep wouldn't come freely, he was going to force it on himself. He cleared his mind and laid still for another half hour before he finally succumbed to his exhaustion and slept.

_A/N: Poor 'Geta and Bulma. So much sexual tension. I'm still not happy with the next chapter and may never be, so I'm not sure if I'll post it tomorrow or tear it apart and put it together again with major improvements. Either way, I'll get it up as soon as I can. Until then, review! Wouldn't it be awesome to hit 1000 by the time the story is done (which is in three chapters)? Thank you all for all the support through the story! It's been a pleasure updating it for you. I might also create another poll for something in the sequel, so be on the lookout for that. I want YOU to help me hammer out the details!_

_Song: "Frustration" by Crease_


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

_Try to reach inside of me  
Try to gain my energy  
Let me show you just  
What I'm made of_

The wind swept across the barren land that was once a bustling village filled with life. A cloud of dust rose with the wind and blew over the stone arena standing elegantly in the open valley with one lone being standing in the middle. The sky was still tinged pink with the rising sun that was bringing its warmth to the Earth the same as it did every day. By all appearances, it was a day like any other, but the people of Earth knew that it was not; no, today was potentially the day the world would end if no one rose to the challenge to defeat Cell in his tournament.

Capsule Corporation was abuzz with activity on the morning of the Cell Games. All of the z-fighters and their friends gathered there before leaving for the secluded arena to fly over as a group. Vegeta left before they came over, as he was eager to see where the tournament would be held and size up his opponent more closely. That left Trunks, Goku, Gohan, Krillin, Tien, Yamcha, and Piccolo to follow after him.

Bulma stayed behind at the compound with her parents, Roshi, Oolong, Puar, Chichi, and Ox King. They didn't know if the tournament was going to be televised, but they figured it would be and so they gathered in the living room to watch the news for any word on the Cell Games. Though hopeful, each of them was anxious about the tournament; all they knew was that Cell was incredibly powerful, much stronger than a super saiyan. Even with four super saiyans on their side, the chances of them winning were slim to none.

Vegeta stood on the edge of the stone arena with arms crossed over his chest and typical scowl on his face. His tail flicked angrily behind him as he glared at the green creature standing in the center of the ring. There stood the source of his greatest humiliation, the abomination who defeated him effortlessly even as the legendary super saiyan. He hated Cell with a fiery passion and would not be satisfied until he was blasted into another dimension.

He'd been standing there for about fifteen minutes when he cocked his head to the side as the rest of the z-fighters joined him at the side of the ring. He ignored the cheerful greeting from Goku and turned back to face Cell. It wouldn't be long before the tournament was to begin, and then he would have his chance at last to redeem himself and end the threat to the little planet. He blocked out the sound of the other warriors discussing how the fight would turn out and who would be fighting first. He was so focused on planning his fight that he didn't even notice the arrival of three human fighters who were putting on a foolish performance to be broadcast to the entire world – some sort of 'world champion' and two of his best students or some nonsense like that.

As if waking from a trance Cell opened his eyes and looked over at the real warriors with a smug smirk gracing his features. "Well, then, it is time for the tournament to begin," he announced. "Who wishes to fight me first? Goku?"

The cheerful saiyan nodded and stepped onto the stone arena ready to fight, but his entrance was cut short when he was interrupted by the three human fighters who insisted they would be able to easily take down the android. Not wanting to have them miss their 'opportunity' Goku allowed them to step in and try their hand at fighting. So, for the next five minutes they made several failed attempts to fight Cell and only ended up greatly humiliating themselves with their foolish antics.

When that was finally over with, Goku stepped into the ring and faced off against Cell. Standing on the sidelines, the z-fighters all watched the match intently while any ordinary viewer would be unable to see anything happening. The warriors' eyes shifted around with the battle as Goku and Cell phased in and out of view through the air as their great powers collided. Sonic booms echoed through the valley as the two fighters continually darted through the air above the ring and exchanged blows faster than the eye could see.

Neither fighter was giving any quarters, but it seemed that neither was gaining the upper hand after a long fight. If anything, Goku was losing power while Cell's power remained stable. While the other fighters cheered their undefeated hero on, Vegeta was appalled at the younger saiyan's tremendous increase in power since they last sparred. Clearly his training in the time chamber paid off as he was almost as strong as – if not stronger than – Vegeta as a super saiyan. Vegeta sneered as he watched the fight, showing his contempt for his rival while inside he was trying his hardest to ignore the feeling of apprehension rising in his body. If Goku was having such a hard time with Cell, how would his fight with the android be any different? His tail tightened around his waist the longer he watched the battle drag out.

"Is that it?" they could hear Cell taunting Goku as he delivered a powerful uppercut to the panting saiyan. "I thought you were going to make me pay for what I've done."

A swift kick in Goku's back sent him crashing into the stone ring below. Barely audible with the sound of cracking stone was the accompanying cracking of bones and a grunt of pain. Vegeta rolled his eyes as the other fighters took a few steps forward, ready to jump in the fight and help if need be. He knew they would be useless in a fight against Cell, even if they all took him on at once.

"Is the game too hard for you?" Cell asked Goku. "Here, why don't we make this more interesting?"

Everyone watched as Cell blew up his own ring, with it obliterating all the tournament rules. The game just changed to 'anything goes,' since there was no longer any out-of-bounds. With that out of the way, Cell and Goku jumped back into the fight, which now spanned through the desert valley.

"He's finished," Vegeta predicted quietly to himself. He frowned when Trunks, Piccolo, and Gohan all turned to him with disbelieving eyes. Of course _they_ heard him. He turned his attention back to the fight unfolding before him and refused to provide any explanation.

They watched as Goku stood up and phased out of sight and reappeared behind the green android ready to strike. Unfortunately, Cell was able to dodge his attack and throw a punch of his own straight into the tiring warrior's diaphragm. He left Goku gasping for air as he lowered himself back to the ground and looked over his shoulder at the other warriors with a smirk. "Don't worry, you'll all get your turn," he called over to them with a laugh.

"Why that – " Yamcha started to yell as he took a step closer to the ring, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Yamcha!" Piccolo barked. "Don't let him get to you. Goku isn't out of this yet."

Vegeta snorted as his eyes shifted over to the Namekian and back to the fight. There was no way Goku was going to last much longer, that much was obvious. He was slowing down and breathing hard. Judging by the number of hits he'd taken, he was in a great deal of pain and was having a hard time maintaining his energy level. What he needed was a break, but he wasn't going to get one. If the fight kept up much longer, he wouldn't have a chance at winning. If he couldn't end it now, he wasn't going to be ending it at all.

Goku knew as well as Vegeta did that he was spent. He allowed the battle to go on too long, not that he ever believed he had a chance at defeating Cell to begin with. Had he ever had a chance, though, he'd lost it. He desperately needed time to recover, but he knew that was out of the question. There were only two things he could do: fight until Cell killed him or forfeit and allow someone stronger to take his place and destroy the android. He glanced to the side and saw his son waiting anxiously for him to continue the fight and smirked as he turned back to Cell.

"Are you ready to continue?" Cell asked condescendingly. Perhaps it was his saiyan genetics that were making him bored with his fight. He was sorely disappointed that the great hero of the world wasn't holding up very well. Of course he didn't expect much better, but it was still a letdown. He wanted a real challenge. He wanted to be able to _really _test his strength.

Goku quickly came up with a plan. He knew a way to trick Cell and give him some severe damage. He flew high into the air and cupped his hands at his side as he started gathering energy for his trademark kamehameha wave. He could tell that Cell didn't believe he would go through with it. After all, if he did from his current position, he would blow up Earth along with the android. When he had enough energy summoned for his attack, Goku used his instant transmission and reappeared right in front of Cell and released his kamehameha at point blank range, giving his opponent no time to defend himself.

When the dust cleared, Cell's legs were lying on the ground, but the rest of his body was blown to pieces. While Yamcha and Tien cheered on the sidelines, thinking the battle was over, the rest of the z-fighters looked on with apprehension. They knew something was amiss with the whole situation. There was no way the powerful android could be defeated that easily. They could also see that with that one attack Goku drained almost all of his energy and didn't have it in him to finish the job. All he had to do was blow those legs to oblivion, but he couldn't do it.

Sadly, Cell started to regenerate himself, and in under a minute he stood before Goku with his body intact. He was noticeably weaker, but so was Goku after he poured so much of his energy into his kamehameha. They bantered a while before resuming their fight. Rather, they resumed with Cell beating Goku with ease. It was clear the saiyan had little power left.

Sensing his impending defeat, Goku threw everything he had left into a furious barrage of ki blasts aimed straight for the android. He didn't have much to put into it, but he was giving it everything he had, refusing to give up without putting up a fight first. But, it had no effect on Cell, who was able to deflect all the attacks as if they were mere playthings.

"Maybe one of those senzu beans would help," Cell suggested.

"Quick, give him a senzu bean, Krillin!" Trunks urged, hearing the android giving his permission to Goku.

Piccolo glanced at the lavender-haired warrior and shook his head once. "We will wait."

"Wait for what?" Trunks shouted, "He needs a senzu bean!"

Vegeta, now fed up with his son's persistence, barked at him, "Quiet boy! Where is your honor? Like all pure-blooded saiyans, Kakarrot would rather die fighting than win with one of those disgraceful senzu beans as his crutch. Now let's see what he can do."

"I can feel your power slipping away, Goku," Cell taunted, "I don't think you can last much longer. You know it's hardly worth my effort to finish you off now. The next battle we engage in will be your last."

Goku chuckled and stood up straight, staggering back a few steps before regaining his balance. "It's over Cell. You win. I give up, I know how strong you are. There's no point in continuing this fight, I can't beat you." He ignored the incredulous protests from his friends as he threw in the towel. He'd accomplished what he needed to, so now it was time to give the next fighter a chance. He already had one in mind.

Cell narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Are you really going through with this, Goku?"

"There's still one more person for you to fight."

"You're not serious. Who? One of them? And exactly which one did you have in mind? Trunks? Vegeta? Don't waste my time."

"So you don't mind if I pick who goes next, do you?" Goku asked Cell, ignoring his comments about the other fighters. "I know it sounds crazy, but you'll understand soon enough. The person I'm about to name is a lot stronger than I am. So if you enjoyed the challenge of fighting me, you'll like this one even better. Of course you probably won't feel that way about it after he's beaten you."

"What's that?" Cell demanded. "You certainly seem to have a lot of confidence in this mystery fighter of yours. Who is this champion?"

"I need someone to take over," Goku yelled over to the other warriors. "That someone is you… Son."

"What a disappointment," Cell muttered, "he promised me a challenge and gives me a boy."

Vegeta watched in disbelief as Goku talked to his son, convincing him to go out and fight with Cell. He was furious he had been overlooked. He knew he was stronger than that brat! He had more battle experience and more power hidden deep inside, if only he could bring it out. He felt shamed, being passed over in favor of a mere boy. He ground his teeth and turned away from the younger saiyan, refusing to even look at him. Vegeta tried to shut out the conversation they were having, not wanting to believe his rival's son might be as strong as himself. Or worse yet, stronger. No third-class half-breed scum could compare to the Prince of all Saiyans! Right?

After talking a minute, Gohan agreed to fight with Cell. He jumped down to the battlefield and prepared for his fight with Cell. He, along with the rest of the warriors, looked on in shock when Goku threw a senzu bean to Cell, giving only the explanation that it wouldn't be fair for Gohan to fight him without being at his best.

"Your overconfidence has betrayed you! You will regret this act soon, indeed," Cell warned the saiyan as he ate the bean and powered up to his previous level. He didn't think he needed the bean to defeat Gohan, but he didn't mind taking it. "So, child, are you ready?"

Gohan frowned at the green android and screamed as he powered up, his aura growing around him, blowing a cloud of dust and debris around him in a cyclone of energy. His brows lowered into a scowl as he finished raising his power, now ready to start his fight. He had to win, his father was counting on him. And losing would mean the end of the world.

"Ok, Cell, I'm ready," he announced.

As the battle started, Gohan was seemingly able to hold his own against Cell. He blocked Cell's attacks with ease, but his blows were likewise unable to land on his targets. After a minute, Cell grabbed Gohan and started beating him senseless.

"He's losing!" Trunks gasped as he watched.

The warriors watched as Cell threw Gohan into the ground. They were growing increasingly anxious by the minute, their faith in the boy wavering while Goku remained steadfast in his belief that Gohan would win. They watched Gohan sit up and stagger to his feet, readying himself to start the second round against his opponent.

"I'm ready when you are, you creep," Gohan growled as Cell approached him.

Chuckling, Cell shot up into the air and resumed the battle with a series of ki blasts that Gohan barely managed to dodge. The fight turned to a one-sided hand-to-hand combat as Cell gained the advantage. Finally, growing tired of the ease with which he was beating Gohan, Cell blasted him into a mountainside, which collapsed on top of him.

"That was too easy," Cell praised himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

While the z-fighters all screamed in horror, thinking Gohan had been killed, Goku reassured them that Gohan was fine. Then, turning their attention back to the rubble, they could sense out Gohan's ki, indicating he was still very much alive. Just as they regained hope, Gohan erupted from the crumbled mountain with an explosion of power. He looked furious as he set his sight on Cell. It would take a lot more than that to keep him down.

He marched over to Cell and started pleading with him to stop fighting. He didn't want to fight and didn't want to kill Cell, even if he was evil. Cell, on the other hand, very much wanted to fight. He also didn't take kindly to being told his opponent was going to kill him.

Gohan proceeded to explain how his power would be unleashed if he was pushed too far. He told Cell about the way it had been freed before in his life when his loved ones were put in danger. He was trying his hardest to convince Cell that continuing the fight would end in his death, trying to convince him to give up before it got out of hand. But, it was to no avail. All his story managed to do was pique Cell's interest.

Determined to bring Gohan's hidden power out, Cell delivered a hard right hook to Gohan and then kicked him to the ground. He stepped on his chest and applied pressure until Gohan cried out in pain. Sensing Gohan's power wasn't rising, Cell picked him up and started beating him again, egging him on, demanding he become furious.

"Come on! Show me your power! Defend yourself!" Cell screamed as he attacked. In retaliation, Gohan swung around and kicked Cell in the jaw.

Cell was more determined than ever to get Gohan's power to come out. He phased in front of Gohan and wrapped his arms around the boy's body in a bear hug and started squeezing until he could feel his ribs cracking. Gohan screamed in pain and struggled, but he couldn't break free from Cell's hold.

"It makes you mad that you're in pain!" Cell shouted.

Finally, Cell released him and watched with condescension as he panted for air after having it forced out of him so painfully. He decided it might be more effective to go after his friends, so he flew up to Krillin and snatched away the bag of senzu beans. That done, he returned to the battlefield and taunted Gohan some more. He was doing everything he could to ensure the boy would become so enraged his power would spike to incredible new heights.

Then, without warning, he produced six miniature versions of himself from his tail and commanded them to go fight with the other warriors. He realized that attacking Gohan's friends was the surest way to get him angry and then he would release his hidden power. It was a plan that could not fail.

Gohan watched in horror as the Cell juniors rushed to fight with the other warriors. He saw Trunks and Vegeta ascend to super saiyan as they prepared to engage in battle. Small as they were, he could sense that Cell's 'children' were as powerful as their creator. Knowing that, he also knew that most of the warriors didn't stand a chance against them. He stood there, eyes wide and mouth gaping, powerless to help his friends out of this bind.

The only ones who were really able to defend themselves were Piccolo, Vegeta, and Trunks. The rest of the warriors were struggling to block the powerful blows of the little androids. They were being pummeled into the ground, including Goku who was still tired from his own fight with Cell.

The longer he watched, the more Gohan felt his control slipping. He realized that most of them couldn't be wished back if they were killed, yet they were dangerously close to dying. He had to do something to save them, but he couldn't take on six miniature Cells by himself. He hoped that someone else would step up to the plate and help, but he knew they couldn't. His power started rising from deep within. He knew he would need it to finally defeat Cell, but he tried desperately to suppress it; he was afraid of his own power. He had no idea what damage he might cause if he let it get out of hand.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Goku panted out, "I just didn't think it could end up this way."

Helplessness crashed through Gohan when he heard his father's apology. He blamed himself for the events going on in front of him. His friends were being literally beaten to death because he told Cell about his hidden power, the very power he was trying his hardest to keep at bay. He wanted to help them, he needed to help them, but he was terrified of his power. He watched Vegeta release a huge Big Bang on one of the miniature androids, only to have it blocked as if it were nothing. He couldn't believe it; one of the strongest fighters in the group wasn't able to stand up to one of those little creatures.

The battles seemed to be playing in slow motion as Gohan's power continued to surge. His eyes shot from one fight to the next, only seeing the androids dominating the warriors. It was too painful to endure. He felt another jump in his power, which was becoming increasingly difficult to control.

"Hey! Hurry up now, first one with a kill wins a prize!" Cell yelled to his 'children.'

"Gohan! You have to stop resisting!" Goku screamed as he was knocked mercilessly into the ground. He was barely able to stay conscious by then.

He couldn't take it anymore. He wouldn't! At that moment, Gohan let it go. He stopped resisting, allowing his power to shoot to unprecedented heights, cracking the ground beneath his feet. He roared in fury as his energy continued to explode, causing his muscles to bulk slightly as they became infused with ki.

"Stop it!" he bellowed, "That's enough, tell them to stop it!"

"Ah, that's the way, let it all go," Cell continued encouraging Gohan, eager to see just how powerful he could become. He saw that he might have a challenge after all.

As Gohan screamed again as another wave of power was released, Cell muttered, "Incredible." He was almost starting to regret bringing this beastly power out.

"I can never forgive you for what you've done," Gohan growled as he stepped forward, sparks of electricity surrounding his body.

Gohan snatched the bag of senzu beans from Cell and phased up to where the others were fighting. With little effort, he destroyed each of the miniature androids. The other warriors watched in awe as he dispatched of their impossibly strong opponents without breaking a sweat, often only using one blow to kill them.

Though awestruck by Gohan's new power, Vegeta was also furious. He couldn't stand seeing his rival's son surpass him in strength so greatly. He scowled as he watched Gohan return to Cell to continue their battle. He saw how Gohan was no longer having trouble keeping up with the android. If anything, Cell was having trouble keeping up with the demi-saiyan. It was maddening, witnessing someone else – a boy – ascending beyond the level he worked so hard to reach. He _knew_ he had that kind of power somewhere inside. He knew he should have been the one to transcend the first level of super saiyan, perhaps the only one, not that _child!_ If only he could have figured out what the trigger was. If only he knew how to make his power come out, too.

Cell was seriously outmatched as he attempted to keep up with Gohan's newfound speed. Enormous explosions lit up the valley as he threw ki blasts and made failed attempts to hit the young warrior. His frustration was evident, which only bolstered the confidence of the z-fighters.

Vegeta's thoughts were interrupted when Trunks came over to him and offered a senzu bean to heal after his fight with the Cell junior. He growled and snatched the bean. "I hate when I'm forced to take these!"

Trunks shrugged and walked away to give beans to the rest of the warriors, letting his father bask in self-pity if he wanted. Vegeta watched him go as he ate the bean. While he was glad to feel his energy returning to him, he resented having to rely on a stupid bean. With a shake of his head he turned back to the fight going on between Gohan and Cell. It looked like Cell was losing badly. That only managed to anger him more. He was supposed to be the one to defeat the android abomination! His tail unwound from his waist and lashed behind him angrily.

Now completely enraged, Cell decided it was time to stop holding back in his fight. He stopped exchanging blows long enough to power up to his maximum strength, only to have the confidence smacked down when Gohan, unimpressed, continued beating him once the fight recommenced.

Gohan punched Cell in the gut, leaving Cell gasping for air, then delivered an uppercut that sent the android flying back. With only two hits, he felt as if his power was slipping from his grasp. After having his kicks blocked, Cell was again kicked aside by the child warrior. He couldn't believe how poorly the battle was going for him. He was the perfect fighter, yet he was being beaten by a mere boy.

Growing desperate, Cell released a volley of attacks inherited from his genetics, only to have Gohan swat them away. He could feel fear rising in his gut as he found himself on the defensive without any hope of gaining the upper hand. Gohan was unstoppable, and he was terrified. He didn't want to die. He never thought it was possible. There was only one option left for him. He shot up into the sky and quickly powered up a kamehameha easily large enough to obliterate the whole planet in an instant.

When the wave of energy was only feet away from him, Gohan made his own kamehameha and shot it straight through Cell's, pushing it away from the planet until it exploded outside of the atmosphere, taking Cell with it. Gohan showed no signs of exhaustion after his counterattack against Cell, a fact that was unbelievable for his friends.

"Gohan!" Goku yelled from the sidelines, "You have to finish him off _now_!"

Despite half of Cell's body being blasted away by the kamehameha, Gohan refused to kill him when he had the chance. He was uncharacteristically merciless, wanting to make his enemy suffer for a while before finishing him off. As predicted, Cell regenerated himself and bulked himself up before rushing to fight more with Gohan.

After only a minute more of battle, Gohan drove his knee into Cell's stomach, bringing him to his knees. Everyone watched in revulsion as Cell started drooling and clutching his stomach. There was no doubt about it, he was going to be sick. Then the unexpected happened: Cell vomited up Android 18 whole, forcing him back into his semi-perfect state.

"This is the end!" Piccolo yelled when he felt Cell's power deteriorating rapidly.

Gohan smirked when Cell finished his transformation. He had more power than ever over the hideous – and furious – android. He started beating Cell relentlessly, determined to make him experience the same pain he had put so many others through. He ignored his father's instructions to kill him immediately, instead dragging the fight out until his need for vengeance was satisfied.

"Cell, give up, you aren't going to beat me," Gohan snarled.

It was at that point that Cell realized he only had one option, and that was to kill his enemies by destroying the planet – and himself. It was unfortunate, having to die to win, but he thought it was worth it. Thus, he blew himself up until he had expanded into a bloated ball of energy ready to burst.

"You lose! I'm going to destroy this planet! Watch out, you might make me explode!"

As he continued to grow, all of Gohan's hope and confidence withered away. He knew that trying to attack Cell would only result in the end of the planet. There was nothing he could do. Cell was a ticking time bomb ready to explode. He collapsed to his knees and beat the ground. His fury turned inward as he blamed himself for letting Cell win. If only he had killed him when he had the chance, as his father repeatedly told him to do.

Goku turned to the others and smiled. "Listen, time is running out and I can only think of one way to save the Earth." Not answering their questions, he turned back to the battle and bid them goodbye as he used instant transmission to move over to where Cell was.

The rest of the warriors stood, frozen, watching Goku reappear between his son and the android. Not one of them had any doubts about what he intended to do. Goku, the ultimate hero, the selfless champion of the world, was going to teleport Cell somewhere far away from the Earth. And he wouldn't have time to refocus on any of their power levels and get back before Cell exploded. He was going to die if he went through with his plan, and not one of them had any better ideas.

He put his hand on Cell's belly and turned to Gohan. "Take care of your mother. Tell her I had to do this, Gohan. Goodbye, my son." With that, he disappeared with Cell.

"Daddy!" Gohan screamed into the calm valley. He beat the ground until his fists bled, unable to accept the fact that his father just sacrificed himself to save him and the rest of the world. His guilt was so strong he could hardly breathe. He barely heard Krillin trying to reassure him as he mourned for his father.

As the warriors prepared to leave, thinking the battle was finally over, their senses were suddenly overwhelmed by a power unlike any they ever felt before appearing nearby. With it came a turbulent wind that blew up a great cloud of dust they couldn't see through, and out of it came a narrow beam of energy that shot through Trunks' heart, killing him almost instantly.

"My aim is as good as ever," came the voice of Cell in his perfect form, then a following bout of laughter.

_A/N: But the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back, they thought he was a goner, but the cat came back, he just couldn't stay away…_

_Yes, this chapter was rushed. I don't need you telling me that. If you want more detail on this part, go watch season 6. I didn't feel the need to completely write out the fights and conversations as they played out. You already know what happened up to this point. I promise the rest of the Cell Games will be more interesting (albeit shorter)._

_Song: "What I'm Made Of" by Crush 40_


	62. Chapter 62

A **super** special thank you to Volleys-chan (probably my very favorite writer of V/B fanfic) and indirectly HikariNeko33 for telling me how to bypass the problem that was making it impossible for me to update! I hope this is worth the wait. Now on with the story!

Chapter 62

_Will there come a time for me when I'll find peace of mind?  
Will I always have this feeling like I'm last in the line?  
I will climb up a mountain and light up a candle and ask  
"Will my soul ever rest in peace?"_

The laughter resounded through the valley as the dust cleared, revealing Cell once again in his perfect form. The warriors could feel that he was stronger than ever as he stood gazing at them with a smirk on his face. The nightmare just wouldn't end for them. Even after being transported somewhere far away and blowing himself up, he was still able to come back. And now, Trunks was dead at the hands of the android.

"You thought you'd never see me again, didn't you? Well too bad!" Cell jeered as he basked in the expressions of terror, disbelief, and confusion written across the warriors' faces. "I can't die, it's impossible."

As Gohan raised his power and readied himself for yet another round against the android, Vegeta's focus was solely on his son who was dying fast, only able to cough up blood as he lost his grip on life. Vegeta felt anger like he had never felt it before. Never under the rule of Frieza, never before when he was humiliated by Kakarrot, never _ever_ had he felt this fury. It rose and took control of him. "My son…"

With a flash of blinding light his energy erupted around him. Cell flipped the trigger in Vegeta's power, and it was time to pay the ultimate price. He finally tapped into his bottomless well of power, and he was letting it pour through his body. The other warriors backed away from the raging saiyan, shielding their faces with their arms as debris flew around them.

"Cell!" Vegeta bellowed as he darted toward the surprised android. He wasn't waiting for an invitation to start fighting. He wouldn't let Gohan fight for him anymore. He had to defend Trunks' honor. He felt pain like never before, and it only served to make him angrier, forcing his power to soar even higher.

Gathering energy in his hand as he flew toward Cell, Vegeta was prepared to defeat his enemy once and for all. He'd been mocked and beaten down before, but this time Cell had gone too far. Attacking his son was one mistake he would not live to regret. Vegeta threw his energy forward, aiming directly at Cell. Less than a second later his energy exploded on contact with its target. Vegeta flew up higher and started an endless barrage of ki attacks on the center of the first explosion.

"Vegeta! Stop this!" Krillin shouted from his place on the ground with Android 18 now cradled protectively in his arms. He was afraid Vegeta would blow up the planet if Cell didn't at the rate he was going. His power was incredible, even higher than Gohan's.

Vegeta didn't hear the bald monk's cries as he indulged in his fury. His senses were tuned only to stimuli relevant to his battle with Cell. He stopped his ki attacks and waited for the android to emerge from the cloud of dust below, knowing it hadn't been enough to kill him.

A few seconds later Cell phased behind him, trying to attack an unsuspecting victim, but Vegeta whirled around and blocked the android's roundhouse kick with his right arm as he released another wave of energy from his left hand at point blank range, blasting the android away. Rather than waiting for his opponent to recover, Vegeta dove to the ground after him and sank his foot into the android's solar plexus, earning a cry of agony from the monster.

The saiyan prince disappeared into the dust, using it as cover while the android got back up on his feet. He smirked when he saw the anger clearly etched upon the grasshopper's features. But his smirk faded when he remembered why he was doing this. His son… Trunks. His mouth turned down as his lips curled in a feral snarl. He roared again as he shot forward, ambushing the android with a swift kick to the jaw and an elbow crashing down on the nape of his neck.

"Die, Cell!" he screamed, "You bastard!"

He dodged a punch aimed for his stomach and caught the green arm, then swung the android around and around before releasing him into a mountainside. While the android was buried under giant boulders, Vegeta flew up into the sky and spread his arms and legs and started gathering energy. This attack would finish the android off if he could only have the time needed to power it up enough. Electricity lit up the air around him and his whole body seemed to glow with an unnatural light.

"Oh no! He's going to blow up the whole planet with that attack!" Yamcha screamed to his comrades when he felt the magnitude of the power Vegeta was summoning. He was trembling in fear, not of Cell, but of Vegeta. The saiyan prince was really out of control this time. It wouldn't be surprising if he _did_ end up destroying Earth in his madness.

"Let's get out of here!" Piccolo shouted to the others, making a hasty retreat to a safer location.

Nodding, Yamcha grabbed Trunks' lifeless body and flew after the Namekian, followed closely by Tien and Krillin with Android 18. Only Gohan stayed where the battle was raging. He knew if the planet was destroyed, he would die anyway. And besides, strong as Vegeta was, he might still need help. The android had already proven himself to be a formidable adversary a dozen times over. Even if Vegeta managed to _almost_ kill Cell, he might not have the energy reserves needed to finish him off. If that were to happen, Gohan would need to step in and end it.

Vegeta growled as the energy coursed through his body, feeling like boiling acid pumping through his veins, there was so much of it. His tail, wrapped tightly around his waist, bristled to three times its normal size in his rage. This attack would take a lot out of him, so it had to be enough to destroy Cell completely. He was going to blow him to pieces so small he couldn't put himself back together again. The sparks of electricity grew, crackling around him like fire as he formed his Final Flash. It had enough power in it to destroy the mudball planet hundreds of times over, so he had to be extremely careful in manipulating it.

Gohan looked up at the Prince of all Saiyans in awe as he felt the energy continuing to grow. He didn't think even he would be able to survive an attack like that. His attention shot over to the pile of rocks that used to be a mountain as light filtered out through the rubble until it all flew away from the power source underneath. Cell emerged from the boulders with purple blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and pure hatred burning in his eyes.

At that moment, Vegeta moved his arms forward, drawing his hands together as he channeled all his gathered energy in his palms. His Final Flash was almost ready, he just needed a few more seconds. Gohan watched from the sideline, silently urging Vegeta to release his attack before it was too late.

Cell knew that blocking Vegeta's attack would not end well for him. Dodging would be nearly impossible and too risky. The only thing he could do was fight back against it. He cupped his hands at his sides and started gathering his own energy until bolts of electricity crackled in the air between the two fighters. A blue glow flared up in his hands as he prepared a powerful kamehameha wave to counter the saiyan prince's attack. Pouring all the power he had into it, he released the wave of ki right as Vegeta finished collecting his energy.

"Final Flash!" Vegeta roared at the top of his lungs as the colossal wave of energy shot from the palms of his hand. He felt resistance when it hit Cell's kamehameha. Vegeta thrust more power behind his attack.

"This is it," Gohan breathed as he watched the golden beam of energy overtaking the android's attack.

Suddenly, all the gains he was making stopped as Cell put another burst of energy into his kamehameha. No ground was made in either direction as both fought to overcome the other's most powerful attack. Vegeta's mind wandered through the memories of the various times he engaged in such a showdown with the third-class saiyan. Now here he was, literally fighting for his life and for the life of the entire planet. It rested on his shoulders. It was almost unbearable, reminding him far too much of his responsibility as a boy to protect his home planet. That was his first failure and deepest humiliation.

The memories weakened him. He felt a rush of helplessness and pent-up fury and despair gnawing away at his energy that made sustaining his Final Flash nearly impossible. Every muscle in his body was trembling with the effort it took to hold the monster's kamehameha wave off. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to give in, defeated by his own mind. He growled and thrust the last of his energy into the beam of ki, but it wasn't enough to overtake Cell.

'Oh, no! He's slipping! I have to help him,' Gohan thought as he kicked off into the air and cupped his hands at his sides to start gathering energy for his own kamehameha. He wasn't quite as strong as Vegeta now, but Cell had his hands full holding the saiyan prince off. He would be distracted, and anyway, they were almost evenly matched. Two ascended super saiyans against the android would be a sure win. He just needed Vegeta to last long enough to prepare his own attack.

"Trunks…" Vegeta remembered again why he was doing what he was doing. Not for himself. Not for the planet. Not for his pride, and not for the other warriors. He was doing it because Cell killed his only son. Rage boiled his blood and gave him a renewed bout of energy that he immediately forced into his Final Flash.

Cell groaned with the effort it took to keep his kamehameha going strong against the prince's relentless beam of energy. He drew upon all the power he had, the endless source of energy he inherited from Android 17, and forced himself to stand firm against his opponent. He would hold on as long as he needed to, and when Vegeta's endurance ran out he would defeat him.

The other warriors stopped in their retreat from the battlefield when they were nearly hurled into the ground by a massive shockwave from behind. They turned and saw a blinding light growing in the middle of two massive beams of energy. One blue, one yellow. Both unbreakable, unshakable, determined to push the other into oblivion. The point of contact in the middle swelled as more energy was poured into it from both ends. This was the final showdown. The end of the Cell Games. How it ended would surely determine the fate of the planet.

"Should we go back and help?" Tien asked, his eyes widened as he looked on in dread.

Yamcha laughed nervously. "Do you really think we could?"

"Gohan is still there," Piccolo said.

The young demi-saiyan landed several yards behind Cell and focused his energy to form it into his father's greatest attack. "Ka…me…ha…"

Cell shot a glance over his shoulder when he felt a strong energy level growing behind him. He gasped when he saw Gohan behind him readying an attack intended for him. It would hit simultaneously with Vegeta's, and he wouldn't be able to defend himself from both sides. He started to panic. If he could move out of the way fast enough, he might be able to release his wave of energy and phase to a safe location, getting him out of his cornered position. The chances of success were slim, though.

"Me… Ha!" Gohan threw his hands forward and released the blue beam of energy on the android. In less than a second it collided with his unprotected back. Cell fought to erect a ki barrier around himself, but there was no way to hold off that much energy. Not while he was still blasting most of his energy away into his defense against Vegeta.

"No! I am perfect, I cannot be defeated!" Cell screamed as he felt his body burning in the energy enveloping him. Agony overcame him as pieces of his body broke away, finally disintegrating in Vegeta's Final Flash as his own kamehameha dissipated when his energy reserves were knocked out of him by Gohan's attack.

As soon as he saw Cell's imminent defeat, Gohan threw himself out of the path of Vegeta's wave of energy, covering his head with his hands as his body landed on the ground. He felt the intense heat from the Final Flash and had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in pain as his flesh cracked and peeled on his back as the energy passed over him.

With a final burst of energy, Vegeta blasted Cell into another dimension, guiding his attack so it curved back up away from the ground below. Not a single cell of the android was left, all turned to lifeless ash that was incinerated in a massive explosion once it left Earth's atmosphere. Vegeta dropped down to the ground, panting and sweating profusely from the effort. "It's over," he muttered, "It's finally over."

Gohan pushed himself back to his feet and ran over to the saiyan prince when he saw him collapse to his knees. "Vegeta, are you ok?" he asked as he reached the older warrior.

"Get away from me, boy," Vegeta spat, shoving his rival's son away. "I don't need your help. You fool, this is your fault."

"My fault?" Gohan asked, following Vegeta's gaze. He saw Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien, and Krillin rushing toward them, then noticed Trunks' body in Yamcha's arms. He realized what Vegeta meant and was overwhelmed again by guilt. It was his fault his father was dead just as much as it was his fault Trunks was dead. If he hadn't lost control, maybe none of this would have happened. He hung his head in shame and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Vegeta scoffed as he dragged himself back up to his feet. No apology was going to make any of this better. His son was dead! 'Sorry' wasn't going to cut it.

"We need to go to the Lookout," Piccolo told everyone once they reached the two super saiyans. "Mr. Popo has the new dragonballs gathered so we can wish everyone back."

Vegeta looked coolly at the Namekian with arms crossed over his chest. "Dragonballs? I thought they became inert when you fused."

"Well the new guardian created a new set of dragonballs," Piccolo replied.

"New guardian?" Yamcha asked. He was as in the dark about this turn of events, and he didn't appreciate it.

Piccolo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, regaining his patience. "Before the Cell Games, Goku went to New Namek and brought Dende back to become the new guardian of Earth. He knew we would need the dragonballs. Dende created a new dragon based off the model left by Kami. So we have dragonballs and an eternal dragon to grant our wishes. Now come on!"

"So nice of you to tell us beforehand," Yamcha grumbled, feeling left out of the loop.

"Are you coming?" Piccolo asked, turning to face the saiyan prince.

Vegeta turned his head so he could look at the tall Namekian. "No."

When the rest of the warriors were gone, Vegeta levitated off the ground and looked up at the clear blue sky. It was over, Cell was killed by his hand, but he felt no pride. His eyes turned down to the ground and his shoulders slumped forward, his tail dangling behind him. Defeated. He felt defeated even though he just won the greatest battle of his life. "How could you die like that, Kakarrot? There must have been another way! Now I really am the only one left."

Slowly, he allowed his energy to slip away until his hair darkened to black and his eyes returned to their deep obsidian. He reached into his pool of power, power unfathomable, only to forget its existence, not caring about it anymore. All his life he strove to be the best. The strongest. And now that he obtained his goal, he felt only emptiness, no sense of accomplishment. No pride. He stood by and watched his rival sacrifice himself to save the mudball planet, only for his sacrifice to be in vain. He had been too afraid, too stunned by Cell's desperate tactic to come up with a plan to win. So he would be forever shamed by Kakarrot's death. He sighed and turned to go back to Capsule Corp. Even if he was alone, no longer proud, he had a life to live. With her. Even if, at the moment, he wished he had died.

When he arrived at the Capsule Corp compound, he stood outside in the yard staring at the yellow domed building, debating whether or not to go inside. His shame was eating away at him. He didn't want to face the woman after such humiliation. He didn't want to be the one to break the news that her friend – his rival – was dead. And he had done nothing to stop him from handing his life over to the android. Sure, he intended to kill Kakarrot eventually, but letting him die by someone else's hand was not acceptable. There was no honor in dying by deception. He would have at least given his rival an honorable death. He owed him that much for defeating Frieza when he couldn't.

The very last of his race, the last pure-blooded saiyan. That's what he was now. He never thought it would hurt him like it did. He wanted Kakarrot dead for humiliating him years ago. Now he wasn't sure he wanted him to be dead. He didn't want to be alone. Who else would ever be able to understand him? He saw that the demi-saiyans were excellent warriors, but they lacked the desire to fight that came with being a saiyan. They fought from necessity, not enjoyment. Who could he spar with now? His sparring partner was gone, and he doubted the boy would want to take his father's place. He didn't care to fight. He probably wouldn't even train anymore.

His loneliness could not be eased by his blue-haired woman this time. It was much deeper than simply lacking companionship. It stemmed from the knowledge that he was truly the last of his kind. A prince whose entire kingdom was finally gone. The prince of nothing. He felt bile rising in his throat and tried to swallow it back, but to no avail. He retched until his body was wracked with dry heaves. He crumpled on the ground and curled into a ball, holding his head in his hands. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

At the Lookout, Dende ran out to greet the returning warriors when he felt their presence. When he saw Trunks he slowed his pace and approached more reverently. He knew beforehand that the young man lost his life in the battle with Cell, but it hit him hard when he actually saw his dead body.

"Hey, Dende," Gohan rasped when he saw the young Namekian. He could hardly speak, he was so upset.

"Gohan! I'm so glad you're alright," Dende said as he finally reached the small group of warriors. "Are you ready to summon the dragon?"

"Yeah, let's do it!" Yamcha cheered, thrusting his fist into the air.

Nodding, Dende gestured for Mr. Popo to bring the dragonballs out so they could summon Shenron and wish for Cell's victims to be brought back to life. When they were brought out and set on the floor of the Lookout, the warriors gathered around, ready to undo the past with a wish from the dragon.

"Eternal dragon, by your name I summon you forth. Shenron!" Dende chanted over the glowing dragonballs. A bright light emerged from the balls, winding through the air until it formed the shape of the dragon. The warriors stood in awe, looking up at the dragon. No matter how many times they saw it, they would never lose their fear of the eternal dragon.

"Choose your words carefully as you speak. I will make two of your wishes true," Shenron's deep voice boomed over the Lookout.

"Shenron, please revive all those on Earth killed by Cell," Yamcha requested of the dragon. When Shenron's eyes glowed bright red they knew that their wish had come true. Then, along with everyone else on the planet who had been killed by the android, Trunks arose from the dead. He immediately sat up and jumped to his feet. Unfortunately, Goku was not brought back because the new dragon was modeled after the old Shenron. He was brought back to life before and couldn't be brought back again by Shenron.

As the warriors tried to come up with a plan to bring Goku back, they were interrupted by his voice coming from the sky. They looked around for their friend before he clarified that he was speaking through King Kai's telepathy from Otherworld.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I really appreciate your feelings towards me, but you'll have to find something else to wish for. This is my home now," Goku told them after explaining why it would be better not to return to Earth. "Goodbye for now."

They stood in shock, not sure they heard their friend correctly. He was willingly giving up the chance to come back to life so he could party in Otherworld? With the reasoning that the earth was safer without him, no less. They could hardly believe it, and yet it seemed so much like what Goku would do. The warriors were speechless as they tried to wrap their minds around the fact that this time Goku was really gone.

"Listen, you have one more wish for me to grant, I'm waiting," Shenron growled.

As the dragon's patience waned, they all became absorbed in thought, trying to come up with another wish. Yamcha joked that they should wish for money, but he was ignored by the others. Then, Krillin came up with a good wish.

"Can you make Android 17 and 18 human again so they can live in peace?"

"I cannot grant that wish," Shenron told him.

"Then can you at least remove the explosives from their bodies?" Krillin prodded. This wish was granted.

After the wishes were made and the dragonballs dispersed throughout the world, the warriors talked a few more minutes before going their separate ways. Times of peace had returned at last and they were ready to get some rest after three years of harsh training and a battle for their lives. Tien left first, then Gohan, Krillin, Trunks, and Yamcha.

Trunks and Yamcha headed west while Gohan and Krillin went south to return home. On the way back to Capsule Corp, Yamcha thought maybe he should tell Trunks about what really happened, since he had been dead for the end of the fight. "Vegeta went ballistic. When he saw you get killed, he went out of control. He attacked Cell like I've never seen him attack before!"

"You've got to be kidding! I'll be darned," Trunks mumbled to himself. He knew Vegeta was the one who defeated Cell, but he didn't know it was his death that helped his father gain the strength needed to overpower the android.

A few minutes later Yamcha and Trunks separated when they came to West City, each headed for his respective home. Trunks landed in the front yard of Capsule Corp and saw his father lying in the grass. He ran over to him and was assaulted by the sour scent of vomit. He knelt down next to Vegeta and turned him onto his back. His eyes were shut and his teeth were bared in a grimace of pain.

"Father? Are you ok?" Trunks asked, shaking his shoulders to rouse him.

He didn't get an answer, though, so he picked the catatonic saiyan up and carried him into the compound. When he got inside, he tried to sense his mother's ki, but she wasn't anywhere in the building. "Where did she go?" he asked himself.

Since she was nowhere to be found, Trunks figured the best he could do for the time being would be taking Vegeta to his room where he could get some rest. Maybe he was simply exhausted after his battle with Cell. Trunks went upstairs and nudged the door open to his father's room. He went inside and laid his father down in his nest on the floor. Before he could stand up again, he felt something tighten around his wrist and looked down to see his father's furry brown appendage coiled around his arm.

Trunks' lips quirked in a half smile as he gently removed the tail from his wrist and stood to leave. He didn't think his father would want him around when he was in such a weak state. Before leaving the room he pulled the curtains on the balcony doors closed to keep out the bright sunlight. Then he silently padded out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Trunks leaned back against the door and inhaled deeply. It was good to be alive again. He hadn't been dead for long. Actually, he never even reached King Yemma before he was brought back. Still, it was a haunting experience. He hoped it would be a long time before he ever returned to Otherworld. It was hard to imagine Goku wanting to stay there. What would be the fun in staying dead when he had a loving family to return to? For a second he felt bitter toward the carefree saiyan. He grew up without any friends or family aside from his mother and would do anything to be with them, but Goku threw it away as if it meant nothing.

He closed his eyes and exhaled until his lungs were empty. "I hope you don't regret your decision, Goku," he mumbled. He opened his eyes when he heard the front door of the compound opening and felt his mother's ki. She was back from wherever she had been.

Trunks ran downstairs and swept Bulma up in a tight embrace. "Mother! We won, can you believe it? Cell is dead, Father defeated him!"

Bulma gasped for air and patted Trunks' back. "That's great, honey. I knew he could do it. Now could you please let me breathe?"

Blushing, Trunks set her back down on the floor and took a step back to give her room. He grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, Mom. Where've you been?"

"I went over to Roshi's to watch the tournament on TV. But halfway through it the camera must've been broken because we couldn't see anything. I was so afraid the worst had happened. Roshi told me he could still feel everyone's ki, but all I knew was Gohan was fighting Cell and it didn't look good. So what happened? You said Vegeta defeated Cell? Not Gohan?"

Trunks shook his head and guided Bulma into the kitchen where they could sit at the table and talk. "No. I… I don't want to be the one to tell you, but Goku died in the fight with Cell. Gohan was winning, so Cell got desperate and was going to blow himself and the whole planet up. Goku teleported them to King Kai's planet, but Cell survived and regenerated himself and came back. When he did, he killed me. Then Father went berserk and killed him."

Bulma gasped and put her hand over her heart. "Goku… he died? _You_ died? But, you're ok, how can that be? Is Goku ok too?"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was wished back with everyone else Cell killed, but Goku couldn't come back. We were going to wish him back with the dragonballs on Namek, but he talked to us through King Kai and told us he didn't want to be wished back. He thinks it would be better for Earth if he wasn't here because all these threats that keep coming are after him."

"No, Goku," Bulma squeaked out. She was fighting the tears that were threatening to fall, but it was no use. Her best friend was dead and was never coming back. The dam broke and her tears started falling in earnest as she mourned Goku's death.

Trunks got out of his chair and went over to his mother to give her another hug. He hated seeing her so upset and again felt some bitterness toward Goku. He could only imagine how Chichi was handling the news that her husband would never return. "It's ok, Mom, he wants it this way. You know he's doing what he thinks is best for everybody."

"That stupid, noble idiot!" she sobbed, banging her fists against the table. "He should be here right now. He should be here when I get married!"

Trunks frowned and went back to his seat. He didn't know how to console her. The pain she felt over Goku's death in his own time was different. It had lessened over the years and it was made more bearable because it was a natural death and he hadn't had a choice about coming back anyway. He pushed memories of his mother away and sighed. "When are you and Father getting married? Today?"

Bulma's tear-streaked face turned away from her son as she nodded, then shook her head. "I don't know, Trunks. I – we were going to, but I don't know. How can I get married when my best friend just died?"

"He wouldn't want you to put your life on hold because of him."

Bulma sniffled and rested her head on her arms on the table. "Where is Vegeta, anyway?"

"Upstairs," Trunks told her. "When I got back here, he was outside in the yard. He wouldn't move and I think maybe he's just really exhausted from the fight. I took him to his room to get some sleep."

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood shakily. "I should go see him," she said softly as she made her way to the door. Trunks watched her leave and ran his hand through his hair. Even though Cell was gone, there was still so much pain. He wished everything could go right for a change.

Upstairs, Bulma went into Vegeta's room and tiptoed over to his nest in case he was asleep. She sat down next to him and listened to his breathing for a minute before lying down next to him. She lost her best friend today, but she still had the man she loved.

An hour passed before Vegeta awoke from his stupor. When he did, he found his blue-haired woman snuggled against his chest. He caught the scent of her tears and knew what they were from, making a snarl form on his lips. Of course she would miss the fool Kakarrot. She'd known him for years. As much as he hated it, they were close friends. Knowing she was hurting because of his death made him angrier at the idiot for leaving. Not only did he leave _him_ to be the only saiyan in the universe, but he left his friends and family to grieve. What a fool!

Now the void in the back of his mind where he could feel Kakarrot's consciousness was truly complete. He tried to ignore the silence. After all, he'd become relatively accustomed to it through the years. But when he realized there was still another saiyan, he had allowed himself to indulge in the other's presence, if only a little bit. Now it, too, was gone. He was alone. Absolutely alone for the first time in his life. It was miserable.

He held Bulma close, but she wouldn't be able to fill the emptiness. Not this time. 'Damn you, Kakarrot,' he cried out to the younger saiyan mentally, 'Damn you for leaving me here alone!' The agony was threatening to overtake him as he fought to remain in control of his mind. He refused to delve into the dark emptiness where his race used to be.

"Hey, 'Geta," Bulma mumbled and smiled tiredly at the prince. "Is it really over?"

Vegeta looked down at her and saw the sadness and relief mixing in her blue eyes. He looked away from her before answering. "Yes, Woman, it is over." He knew what that meant, but despite feeling her body against his, he didn't feel any desire to go through with it. All he wanted was to be alone, yet he knew he couldn't push her away anymore.

Bulma turned his head to face her again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap, I know something's bothering you. Tell me," she ordered.

Vegeta swiftly stood up and went into his bathroom, not providing her with any response. He didn't want to talk right now. He needed time, if she would only give it to him. Why did she have to be so pushy all the time, always trying to get him to tell her what he was thinking about? He resented it. It was as if she had to pry into his deepest secrets. He locked the door behind him and slid down to the floor, staring at the opposite wall.

Soon he heard her knocking on the door. "Vegeta? Please, tell me what's wrong. You can't hide in there forever."

"Please just leave," he whispered into the room. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his arms. "Just leave me alone."

The knocking stopped, but he felt Bulma's ki still on the other side of the door. He imagined her debating whether or not to leave. Finally, she must have made up her mind because he heard her sliding down to the floor on the other side of the door. It might have been funny, the way they were mirroring each other even if they couldn't see it, had they not both been so upset.

Vegeta didn't know how long he sat there before he finally got up. He peeled off his armor, gloves, boots, and bodysuit and got into the shower. He allowed himself to relax in the scalding hot water. He wanted it to wash away more than blood, sweat, and dirt. He wanted it to wash away his pain and take his shame along with it. He wanted it to rinse away his loneliness and despair. He furiously scrubbed his body, trying to rid himself of his pain, but all it did was make his skin raw until the hot water stung as it ran down his body. He pounded his fists against the tile wall until it cracked and clawed at his scalp until the water was tinted pink with blood as it trickled down the drain.

"Why Kakarrot?" he rasped. He swallowed and then shouted, "Why? Kakarrot!"

In an outburst of anger he punched a hole in the wall, making his knuckles bleed, but he didn't care. He could handle physical pain. He was accustomed to it. What he couldn't stand was the mental pain he was experiencing. His ego was aching and nothing could remedy it. His aloneness was shredding his sanity.

Bulma jumped in alarm when she heard the saiyan's outburst. There was the shouting, which hardly fazed her anymore, but it was followed by the distinct sound of tile and plaster breaking. She leaped to her feet and started beating on the door.

"Vegeta, what the hell are you doing in there?" she screamed through the door, "Let me in this minute! Vegeta, I know you can hear me!"

"Shut up, Woman, before I blast you into another dimension!" he shouted back.

Bulma shrank back from the door and snapped her mouth shut. She could hear in his voice that he was losing his grip on reality, and it scared her. She didn't know what to do. Leaving him alone could be as dangerous as trying to reach out to him. After a short internal debate, she turned and ran out of the room, trying to hold back her tears.

Vegeta felt her leave and fell to his knees in the shower. He closed his eyes and focused on calming his ragged breathing. He took several deep breaths and exhaled slowly. "I don't want to be alone," he admitted. "I can't stand being alone again."

He turned off the water and got out of the shower. Still dripping wet, he glared at his reflection in the mirror. All he saw was the prime example of failure. With a growl he punched the mirror, shattering it and cutting his hand more. He watched the blood flow from the lacerations in his skin and only wanted more. He wanted to feel physical pain so he could block out the mental pain. Shaking his head, he wrapped a towel around his hips and left the steamy bathroom. He would not succumb to the desire for physical pain ever again. He promised himself that many years ago before he even reached puberty.

He knew he needed to regain control of himself. He should be proud of himself. After all, he killed Cell. He reached a new level of power greater than any other being. He preserved his honor and that of his son. He was free to mate with Bulma and he didn't have to worry about the foolish third-class ever growing stronger than him again. He was the greatest warrior the universe had ever seen. He was… alone.

Vegeta shook his head again. He would not allow himself to think about that. He would ignore the emptiness in the back of his mind and forget that he was the last of his race. He would not be reminded of the fact that only hybrids would live on. He had come to grip with the knowledge that his race was gone long ago, so why was it coming back to bother him so much now? Because Kakarrot, the fool who could hardly be considered saiyan, was dead? He rolled his eyes at the thought.

Bulma sat at her vanity and stared at her trembling hands. Her mind was a cloudy haze of fear and sadness. Something was terribly wrong with Vegeta, but she didn't know what, and he wasn't going to let her know. He was walking the thin line between sanity and insanity again, and that scared her more than she liked to admit. She wanted to believe she could always bring him back to reality, but she knew if he resisted there was little she could do. Right now, she was sure he would reject any efforts on her part to help him.

She looked up at the mirror and forced a smile. She should be happy, after all. Vegeta defeated Cell, meaning the threat that had been looming over them for the past three years was finally over. They could finally get on with their lives without worrying about the androids. She should be proud of Vegeta for being the one to finally end it all. Of course, she had the right to be sad about Goku dying, but she knew he wouldn't want her to be. With that in mind, she forced her sadness away and tried to only remember the fond memories she had of the younger saiyan.

The blue-haired beauty nearly fell out of her seat when she heard the familiar sound on her balcony that announced the arrival of the saiyan prince. Her chest tightened with apprehension as she stood and went over to open the balcony door. She prayed silently that he hadn't come to hurt her, that he was in his right mind again. Slowly, she slid the door open and stepped out onto the balcony.

She saw Vegeta standing next to the railing, his hands on top of it and tail twitching from side to side. He didn't seem terribly agitated. Maybe contemplative, though. She stood still, not wanting to test his boundaries, waiting for him to speak.

"You fear me," he stated. She could hear his disappointment no matter how much he tried to mask it in a tone of indifference.

Bulma swallowed and, still keeping some distance between herself and the saiyan, went to lean against the railing. "You threatened me," she reminded him, trying to hide the hurt she felt.

He looked down at his hands and then back out at the city. His tail twitched a little faster before wrapping around his waist. "I wouldn't have…"

"Are you sure?" she asked sharply.

Vegeta's eye twitched, but he gave no other sign of being affected by her question. "I had a momentary lapse in my reasoning. It won't happen again."

Bulma was frustrated with the detached way he spoke about his own actions. It was as if he refused to take responsibility for what he did. He distanced himself from his words, trying to make her believe he wasn't the one behind her pain. At least, that's how she interpreted his choice of words. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"What could have possibly set you off this time?" she hissed. "Shouldn't you be celebrating your triumph over Goku instead of wallowing in some twisted… self-loathing or whatever it is? I don't even know because you won't tell me what's wrong!"

Vegeta turned to face her for the first time since their talk began, his arms hanging at his sides. His expression betrayed no emotion, but she knew he was opening himself up to her on a level he hadn't before. "I am the last saiyan," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow. "And that's supposed to be news?"

A spark of anger lit up his eyes and disappeared so quickly she wasn't sure she saw it. Voice still calm and distant, he explained, "Kakarrot was alive before. Now he isn't. I am the last one. The only saiyan in the universe."

"What difference does it make?" she asked callously. "There were two, now it's just you. It's not a huge difference. Besides, I thought you didn't count him as a saiyan anyway."

"You don't understand!" he roared, taking a step closer to her with fists clenched. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the life flickered out of his eyes and his hands relaxed at his sides. His shoulders slumped a little and his tail dropped from his waist. By all accounts, he looked as though in that instant he lost the will to live.

After his short outburst, Bulma backed up until she was pressed against the sliding door. He was scaring her more than she wanted to admit. It wasn't that she thought he was purposely going to hurt her, but she was scared by his instability. Raging one second and docile the next, the usually volatile saiyan was more unpredictable than ever. She didn't want to set him off again. She also didn't want to make him hurt any worse than he already was. Only pain, some terrible, indescribable mental anguish could drive him to his current state.

Vegeta sighed and jumped onto the railing. "Never mind," he murmured before leaping back to his own balcony.

"What am I going to do with him?" Bulma asked herself as she went back inside. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but as usual everything had gone wrong. She was heartbroken as she came to grip with the fact that her oldest friend was gone for good and her husband-to-be was slipping into the darkness of his mind. Her son would leave her the next day and then life would return to normal. But what was normal for her anymore?

_A/N: One chapter left. I'm sad, yet relieved, that this story is coming to an end. Now I'll have more time to spend on the other four or five stories (including the sequel) that I'm working on. Can you believe this story is over 400,000 words long? I can't. Just imagine how long the sequel will be! I sincerely thank all my reviewers again._

_I might start posting the beginning of my new AU soon. I'm pretty excited about it and even though it's not nearly done (only on chapter 19), I think I can start it on here. What do you think? Also, for those of you who haven't voted yet, I put up a new poll for a very important detail in the sequel. Please go vote! I won't necessarily go by what gets the most votes because I do have reasons for choosing all the options I did. Good reasons, mind you. So don't automatically go for the one that seems obvious. Hint, hint._

_And a shameless plug: Read "Rise and Fall" by DBZer16. Kid's got good stuff :)_

_Song: "Will My Soul Ever Rest in Peace?" by Stratovarius_


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

_I want domination  
I want your submission  
I see you're not resisting  
To this temptation_

It was the day after Cell's defeat and the whole world was celebrating their champion's victory over the green monster. There were parades, parties, TV specials, and celebratory ceremonies in Mr. Satan's honor. Almost every person on Earth was in high spirits as they breathed a collective sigh of relief that their lives were spared thanks to the champ's battle prowess.

The atmosphere was more somber at Capsule Corporation, though. The Earth's special forces were gathered to say goodbye to the lavender-haired demi-saiyan from the future who was going back home to his own timeline to free his world from the androids. They spent the morning telling stories, wishing the young warrior luck, and offering invitations to come back and visit any time. On the outside they were cheerful, but inside each knew what the young man had to return to. He was the last warrior in a world ravaged by years of destruction. While his future was shining brightly with hope, it would take decades for the bleak past to be erased.

After lunch, they went outside into the back yard where Trunks' time capsule was waiting for him to return home. His hair was cut short again and he was dressed in his casual gray pants, black tank top, purple jacket, and yellow boots with his sword slung over his back. He had his saiyan armor in a capsule, but he hoped he would never need it.

"Be careful, Trunks," Bulma whispered as she hugged her son one last time. She was fighting tears because she knew she would probably never see him again. He was the son she would never have, the son she had grown to love as her own in the short time she had with him. "I love you."

Trunks smiled as he pulled back from her. "I love you too, Mom."

It was strange for him to be surrounded by so much love. These warriors, the greatest the world had to offer, had become good friends during his short stay in this timeline. He respected them and wished he could stay to learn more from them. Most of all, he wished he could bring them back in his own time. Of course, that wasn't possible, and knowing that brought a familiar heavy feeling to his heart. He looked around the small crowd, but his gaze stopped when his eyes met his father's. The father he would never really know.

Vegeta gave him a small salute, but it was a gesture that meant more than words could say to him. He returned the salute and leaped up into his time capsule. It was time to return to the future where he would destroy the androids at last. He called out his last goodbyes and waved as he took off into the air and disappeared into the stream of time on his last journey home.

Vegeta, Bulma, and her parents were left standing in the yard of Capsule Corp, still looking up at the sky, while the rest of the z-warriors went inside to mill about. They were sad to see Trunks go, but they decided it would be best to leave the family alone for a while. Bulma was afraid her heart would break after having to see her only son, the son she would never have in the present timeline, leave forever. She glanced over at the last saiyan, hoping to see some sign of sadness, but his usual stoicism was all she could see. She sighed and turned her gaze to the sky one last time.

"Goodbye, Trunks," she whispered.

Bulma was startled when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and turned to see the saiyan prince standing behind her. "He will be fine, Woman," he told her.

She nodded. "I know, I'm not worried about him. It's just that I'm going to miss him."

Silence passed between them for several minutes, neither knowing what to say. After their confrontation the previous afternoon they both felt the need to explain and maybe apologize, but their pride kept them from speaking. Both knew he had been out of his mind and neither wanted to broach that topic.

"It doesn't seem real," Bulma mumbled.

"What doesn't?"

"Peace."

Vegeta shrugged and wrapped his tail around Bulma's waist as he turned her to face him. "Maybe it isn't real. But the androids are taken care of and I believe I have a promise to keep."

A huge grin spread across Bulma's face as she threw her arms around his neck and planted kisses all over his face. "Finally, Vegeta? We're really going to do it?"

The Prince of all Saiyans smirked as he wrapped his arms around his woman. "Of course, foolish woman. I said we would be mated, did I not?"

"Jerk."

"Wench."

"I need to get someone to marry us."

"You haven't done that yet?"

"Shut up. Go get ready."

Vegeta released Bulma from his hold and levitated up to his balcony and went inside. He still wasn't thrilled about having to go through with the human wedding ceremony, but he knew it was only fair for her sake. Their mating would be a blend of two cultures; it was right that it would start with two ceremonies, one for her and one for him.

When he was gone, Bulma ran inside and picked up the phone to start making all the necessary calls. She needed to get people to come to the compound right away to set up for a small wedding on the lawn, order some catering, and, most importantly, she needed to call a wedding officiant. It was short notice, but she could pay for the inconvenience to get a Justice of the Peace over as soon as possible.

It only took a few short minutes for all the calls to be made. If everything went according to plan, she would be married to her prince by nightfall. She ran upstairs to change into her navy blue wedding dress. By the time she had showered and gotten herself into her dress, her hairdresser had arrived to make her look even more beautiful.

Half an hour later, Bulma stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring her curled hair piled on top of her head in a gorgeous up-do. She smoothed her hands over her taffeta dress, admiring the way it hugged her narrow waist and accented her shapely hips. The A-line dress reached the floor and a short train trailed behind her. It was simple and elegant and there was no color on it besides the dark navy blue. As a final touch she put a silver diamond-studded tiara in her blue hair and a simple diamond necklace around her neck. She looked and felt like royalty. And why shouldn't she? She was about to become a real princess.

Through her open balcony doors she could hear bustling in the yard as a small troop of wedding planners set up her perfect garden wedding. She could smell the scent of food wafting into her room from downstairs and heard the familiar voices of her friends talking and joking both outside and down the hall in the recreation room. The only voice she didn't hear was that of her husband-to-be. She hoped he wasn't getting cold feet. She was feeling a bit jittery, but she attributed it more to excitement than anxiety. She'd waited for this day for too long to back out.

Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed in his room, staring at the wall blankly. He was more than ready for this. Yet, he hated the fact that his woman was spending so much time on a silly little ceremony that really meant nothing to him. He couldn't understand her enthusiasm for all the ridiculous tradition. All they really needed was some human to come and pronounce them married and then they would sign a stupid license saying their marriage was legal. Big deal. He growled when he heard all the weaker warriors loitering around the place. He didn't want them present, but she did so he had to put up with it. This part was for her, he reminded himself.

He pulled on his white gloves, completing his outfit. It wasn't a big change for him. It was his new armor, his blue bodysuit, gold-tipped boots, and his scarlet cape attached to his armor. He had the royal insignia painted on his left breast, marking him as the saiyan prince, even though it was more meaningless now than ever. He looked at himself in his mirror and shook his head. Perhaps it was foolish to try retaining his saiyan culture. But if he let that go, what would he have left? If he left his people, his heritage, behind, then was he truly worthy of redeeming them?

Vegeta stood and strode out to his balcony and looked down at the quaint little set-up. There were a couple rows of chairs for the guests and a small altar of sorts where he and Bulma would stand. There were flowers all over along with other decorations, all blue. He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the humans down below working at a frenzied pace to make sure everything was perfect for the hot-tempered heiress.

'Are you really going to go through with this?' a small voice asked in the back of his mind. He immediately recognized it as his father's. 'You are bringing shame to our race! You cannot interbreed with a pathetic creature like this!'

"Oh really, Father?" Vegeta asked, somewhat amused. "What are you going to do about it? You're not here to stop me. Besides, there are no saiyans besides me left."

'It would be better for you to never take a mate,' the voice persisted. 'It is shameful for the prince to take a mate from another race.'

Vegeta shrugged as his lips quirked in a small smirk. "Shameful? I'll tell you what's shameful. The way our race was living under Frieza's rule. I'm finally doing what we should have done all along: following instinct."

The voice apparently had no reply since Vegeta heard no more protests to his marriage. He honestly didn't care what his father would think of his marriage to his blue-haired human woman. He wanted her and he was going to have her. He decided he had more to live for than fighting and striving to be the strongest. His pride could only increase with such a woman at his side. They could have hybrid children who would become stronger than full-blooded saiyans ever were. He could start a new race, a greater race with just as much pride as his dead people. A race that would never be enslaved by a tyrant overlord and become corrupted.

His decision made, he stepped off the balcony and landed softly on the grass below. He didn't know when the ceremony was supposed to start. He figured it would probably begin once everything was ready, which would be soon. He also didn't know how this ceremony was supposed to proceed, but he figured most of the work would be done by someone else. His job was to show up and say the vows.

Upstairs, Bulma was finished getting ready, and by the looks of it, everything was ready to go. She opened her bedroom door and stuck her head out to make sure the saiyan wasn't around. Seeing that the coast was clear, she tiptoed down the hall to the recreation room where she could still hear several of her friends talking. She went in and spotted Yamcha, Tien, and Chiaotzu. They all looked up when they heard her come in, and she was pleased to note their looks of admiration.

"Hey, Yamcha," Bulma greeted, gesturing for him to come over to her. When he came over she looked up at him and smiled. "Could you go check and see if the Justice of the Peace is here yet?"

Giddy as she was to finally be married to her prince, she didn't see the hurt in his deep brown eyes. She had no idea he still loved her. "Sure, Bulma," he mumbled. "But are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean, being tied down to Vegeta…"

Bulma's brows lowered as she listened to her ex-boyfriend. "Yamcha, this is what I want. I know you don't really like him, but he makes me happy."

Yamcha sighed forlornly and nodded. "I know, B. I'm just worried that he won't be making you happy a few years down the road."

"Why don't you let _me_ worry about that, Yamcha?" she snapped. She softened her tone when she reassured him, "He might not say it, but he loves me. Trust me."

Trust. It was always the issue of trust that tore their relationship apart when they were dating. That or the lack thereof. Yamcha took Bulma's hands in his and locked eyes with her as he made one last appeal. "I trust you Bulma, but I don't trust him. Are you _sure _this is a good idea?"

Bulma pulled her hands away from her old lover and looked away from him, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. It made her uncomfortable. She sighed and turned to leave. "Well, if you won't do it, then I will go check and see if the officiant is here."

She practically ran down the hall to get to the stairs, afraid that Yamcha would try to stop her again. She could hardly believe he was still trying to convince her not to be with the saiyan. She knew Vegeta's temper better than anyone. She knew how he sometimes lost touch with his sanity, how he was prone to violence, and how he was easily angered. Yesterday was a prime example of that. But along with that she also knew that he could be very tender and caring, and she knew he loved her and would never hurt her. She trusted him and couldn't imagine her life without him. She loved him. She needed him.

Bulma found her mother delegating what the caterers should be doing when she reached the bottom of the stairs. A faint smile graced her lips as she watched her mother doing what she did best: entertaining. She hurried over to her mother when she was finally done giving instructions.

"Mom, do you know if the officiant is here yet?" Bulma asked, her eyes darting around to see if she could catch a glimpse of the man with the legal authority to wed her and Vegeta.

"Of course, dear! He arrived a few minutes ago. As soon as everything is set up you can get the ceremony started. Oh, Bulma dear, this is so exciting. My little baby is getting married, and to such a sweet, handsome man!" Bulma's mother clapped her hands together and her cheery demeanor seemed to glow with joy.

Bulma giggled and hugged her mother. "I'm so happy, Mom. This is what I've always wanted."

"I know, sweetie," the blonde woman quipped, "I just wonder how it took you so long to realize it."

Still laughing, Bulma released her mother from her embrace and went to find where the Justice of the Peace had disappeared to. She needed to make sure everything was ready to go as soon as possible. She could hardly wait to be married. She moved quickly through the various rooms of the compound in her search for the man, finally finding him standing in the living room admiring the family photos on the mantle of the fireplace.

The man, probably in his late twenties, turned when he heard the rustling of Bulma's dress and smiled as he held his hand out to her. "Ah, Miss Brief, may I offer my congratulations?"

Bulma grinned and shook his hand. "I'm so glad you could come on such short notice. I'd really like to get this started as soon as possible."

"It's no trouble at all," he reassured her. "I see things are about ready. May I ask which of the men I've seen around is the lucky one?"

"I think you'll know who it is when you see him," she winked. "He _is_ a prince."

She left the dumbstruck man behind as she went to make sure all the preparations were made. Once that was confirmed, all she needed was for Vegeta to take his place along with the officiant and then they could get the wedding underway.

"Dad!" she hissed when she saw Dr. Brief heading for the back door, "Have you seen Vegeta? Can you make sure he gets out there soon? We're about to start."

"Ah, dear, you look lovely," the old scientist praised his daughter as he pulled her into a hug. "I'll make sure the boy gets out there."

Bulma sighed wistfully as she imagined finally having her dream wedding. A small, beautiful garden wedding with just her friends and family and her prince charming. Maybe he wasn't 'charming,' but he was a prince and she loved him, so it worked out in the end. She didn't get the white dress, but she really liked the blue. It looked better on her anyway. She giggled again as she waited for her father to come back.

"Vegeta, my boy, there you are," Dr. Brief said, clapping his hand against the saiyan's back. "I trust you're going to treat my daughter well?"

Vegeta looked down at the shorter man solemnly and nodded.

"Then you have my blessing," the old man replied. "Now then, they're finished setting up out here, so if you would take your place at the front, Bulma would like to begin the ceremony. My wife is rounding up the guests, so we should be starting in the next few minutes."

Vegeta glanced over at the little altar and then back at his soon-to-be father-in-law. "Where?"

Without blinking an eye, Dr. Brief took Vegeta's elbow and guided him over to the altar and showed him where to stand and gave a short summary of what was going to happen. Once he was sure Vegeta was comfortable with the proceedings, he left to find his daughter.

Vegeta stood in his regal poise, his cape billowing in the gentle breeze, as he watched the few guests come out of the compound and start taking seats in the chairs in front of him. He still thought it was stupid that they had to be here for this, but he pushed that thought away for what must have been the millionth time that day. He betrayed a small smirk when he saw a downcast Yamcha take his seat near the back. Vegeta didn't know why he even bothered coming, but he never missed an opportunity to make his life miserable, and this ceremony would certainly accomplish that end.

Some man he never saw before came forward and stood behind him. He figured he must be the person who would legally wed him and the woman. Vegeta's tail dropped from his waist and lazily flicked behind him as he waited for his chosen mate to come out already. Everyone else was here, even her crazy mother, yet she was the one missing. He started to wonder if she had changed her mind. Maybe she decided she didn't want to be mated with him for life. His tail started twitching nervously as his normally rational mind was plagued with these ideas.

Then he heard music playing and remembered the woman's sire mentioning something about that and calmed down. He watched as a crown of sky blue hair came into view before he could see the rest of his mate's body. His stoic expression softened into a pleasant smirk when his eyes caught a glimpse of her milky white shoulders, then the tight navy blue bodice of her dress that flared out from her hips. He could have sworn she was a saiyan princess at that moment. She was now walking up to him with her arm hooked through her sire's with the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face.

They stopped a few feet short of the altar so Dr. Brief could give Bulma away to her prince. Vegeta was pleased, but he didn't miss some of the darker looks he was receiving from some of the members of the crowd. Namely, one scar-faced warrior. His smirk turned a little more devilish as he took Bulma's offered hand as she approached him. She took his other hand once they were facing each other and gazed up into his deep black eyes.

As the officiant started his long, boring speech, as Vegeta considered it to be, he wrapped his tail around Bulma's right wrist and seemed to glow with pride as she wrapped her tiny fingers around it gently. She didn't have a tail of her own, but her right hand was a close enough substitute. He was relieved that she knew what to do.

The rest of the ceremony dragged on for what could have been minutes or hours. Neither the bride nor groom were paying much attention to the passing of time as their eyes locked. It didn't seem real to finally be married. They had waited so long with so much uncertainty, but the day finally came when the androids were gone and they were free to live without a shadow looming over them in the future.

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The officiant's question snapped Vegeta out of his daze.

He didn't know the exact words he was supposed to say, so he just answered, "Hn."

Bulma giggled and mouthed the words 'I do' to her alien groom. Vegeta raised an eyebrow but followed her lead. "I do."

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Bulma smirked as she pretended to mull over the question for a few seconds. Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I do."

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Vegeta snorted. As if he needed to be given permission to kiss his mate if he wanted to. And really, he didn't want to right now because he wasn't too fond of public displays of affection.

Bulma saw his stubborn look of refusal and knew what it was about. Well, she was going to complete the ceremony whether he liked it or not. She reached behind his neck and leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. What she didn't expect was to feel his tail wrap around her waist and pull her closer for a somewhat deeper kiss than she originally intended.

It only lasted a few seconds, but when they broke apart Bulma was blushing a deep crimson while Vegeta wore a smug, self-satisfied smirk. He wasn't going to let her take control like that. Not anymore. She was his mate. His woman. She belonged to him, and she was going to learn her place one way or another. She would submit to him.

After the wedding they moved to the indoor garden where there were tables set up for the reception. The smell of food made Vegeta's mouth water as he took his seat next to Bulma. The celebration started in full swing once the newlyweds arrived, and it wasn't long before Vegeta had a mountain of dirty dishes set out around him as he ate a copious amount of food. Even though he was eating with such fervor, Bulma felt like she was the real meal. His piercing eyes were set on her, and she could see an animalistic nature in them that made her both nervous and excited at the same time.

Many half-hearted congratulations were given to the hot-headed couple as Bulma's friends started taking their leave after a couple hours. Bulma brushed off the looks of sympathy she received, choosing instead to focus on her joy that she was finally married to the Prince of all Saiyans. She already knew most of her friends wouldn't really approve of their relationship. Many of them still held a grudge against her husband. But she didn't care. She knew him like they never would and she could see he was a different man.

When the guests were all gone except for Bulma's parents, the caterers began cleaning up. Outside, everything had already been torn down. Bulma stood with Vegeta at her side and hooked her arm through his.

"Honey," Bulma's mother chimed as she ran over to embrace her daughter and son-and-law, "I just wanted you to know that your father and I are going to be out of town tonight." She winked conspiratorially at them and turned on her heel before they could make a reply.

Bulma shifted her feet nervously as she watched her parents practically sprint away. She had been waiting for this day for so long, but now she was feeling anxious. The heat of Vegeta's gaze was burning through her and she was almost afraid that he was going to hurt her.

"Well, Woman," he purred in her ear, his warm breath tickling her. "I think it's time to be mated in the saiyan ritual."

"And what exactly does that entail?" she breathed.

Vegeta smirked and scraped his teeth against her neck. "It's really quite simple. I make you submit to me."

Bulma shivered and wondered if he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Normally, she hated the idea of submitting to anyone, but the way he said it was very arousing. Her breathing quickened as she shook her head. As much as she wanted to, she thought that perhaps she was supposed to resist giving in. "Like that'll ever happen," she teased.

The saiyan chuckled sinisterly. "You're going to be begging me to dominate you."

The blue-haired woman huffed indignantly and took a step away from her husband with her arms crossed over her chest. She turned her head and frowned. "That'll be the day."

Vegeta's tongue flicked over his canines. He had hoped she would put up a fight. He pulled her back flush against his chest and inhaled her scent deeply. His hands moved down to her hips and pulled her against him harder. "If you don't want to submit," he whispered, "You're still free to run away." He could feel her quivering with excitement. He knew she wanted him. And he could smell her fear, but this time he wasn't offended. It was good for her to be afraid.

Bulma's breath hitched when she felt him grind his hips against hers. Run away? Why the hell would she want to run away? She let out a soft moan. Oh yeah, because the man behind her was a feral animal who just might be planning to tear her apart. That was a good enough reason to run away, right? She pulled away from him, hardly noticing he didn't try holding her back, and took a few hesitant steps forward. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw only the animal side of the saiyan, and it terrified her. She ran.

The caterers watched in confusion as the bride sprinted out of the garden with an expression of pure fear on her face. Behind her, the groom threw his head back and laughed, a dark growl of a laugh that sent terror threading down their spines.

"That's right, run little woman," he chuckled as he let her get a head start. When she disappeared out the door, he pushed aside the feel of her ki and flicked his tail in anticipation. It was time to go claim his mate.

Bulma ran down the long halls of the compound, not really knowing where to go. She knew she didn't have any hope of getting away from the saiyan, he was too strong and fast. Still, she ran with all her strength to prove to him that she wouldn't be so easily overpowered. She skidded to a halt outside of the huge doors to the library and shoved them open. She quietly closed them behind her and walked into the dark room to find a decent hiding place. Crouching behind a tall bookshelf, she pulled her high heels off and cast them aside. If she had to run again it would be ten times easier without them on.

Vegeta walked into the hall and sniffed the air, but it was difficult to determine which way she had gone. Her scent was all over the compound, which made sense considering she lived there. He listened for any sounds that would give her away, but she was far enough from him that she was out of earshot. Good, that made it more of a challenge. Following what he thought was the freshest scent, he turned down a long hall to search for his mate.

He stopped in front of the large wooden doors and smirked. He caught her scent clearly now, its usual sweetness tainted by fear and burning with arousal. He pushed the doors open and stepped into the dark room, his eyes easily adjusting to the lack of light. He licked his lips as he started prowling through the darkness.

"Woman, where are you?" he called out softly as he rounded a corner. He heard movement to his right and grinned.

With no hope of escape, Bulma gathered her strength and made a mad dash for the doors. She knew he could hear her and she felt her dress weighing her down, but she ran for all she was worth. Before she reached the doors, though, a heavy weight came crashing down on her back, knocking her roughly to the ground. She flipped onto her back and stared up into the fiery black eyes of the saiyan prince.

He growled low in his throat and captured her lips in a ravenous kiss. When he pulled back he had an infuriatingly smug smirk on his face. "Are you ready to submit? You don't seem to be putting up much of a fight," he taunted.

Bulma narrowed her eyes at the saiyan and struggled to shove him off her. "I'm not going to give up that easily!" she screamed. With adrenaline pumping through her veins she managed to get him off and then punched his jaw before jumping to her feet and running away again. She felt more excitement when she heard his laughter following her.

Vegeta rubbed his jaw and laughed heartily as he got back up on his feet. This was proving to be more fun than he ever imagined. He knew as soon as she hit him that he had chosen the perfect mate. It was going to be most satisfying to tame her.

Running as if her life depended on it, Bulma made her way back to the main part of the compound, ignoring the burning in her lungs. She hadn't been ready for this kind of exercise when she got married. Why was she running _from_ her husband? She didn't even know, but it seemed like the right thing to do. If only she could get different clothes on, she would have a much easier time running. She threw a glance over her shoulder, and when she didn't see the saiyan, she darted up the stairs to her room.

Vegeta clucked his tongue when he heard her on the stairs. She was so obvious it was humorous. He went to the stairs and went up three steps at a time in perfect silence. He crept down the hall, listening to her moving frantically about in her bedroom. Slowly, he turned the doorknob and nudged the door open and slipped inside, letting the door close behind him with a soft click. He watched in amusement as Bulma whirled around and her eyes widened in shock. She had managed to get out of her dress, having left it on the floor near the bed. She could feel his eyes roving over her body, drinking in the sight of her in her matching navy blue bustier and panties. When she saw him she started backing away.

"You really make this too easy, Woman," he purred as he walked over to her and pulled her to him. "I almost think you want it."

Bulma was rendered speechless as her breath caught in her throat. She gazed up at him with helpless blue eyes and felt her resistance melting away the longer she was in his arms. She shook her head but her body betrayed her when his hands trailed down her sides and pulled her hips closer. She couldn't keep denying her need for him.

But she still had some fight left in her. She slapped his hands away and ran for the door, determined to get away from him. She threw the door open and stumbled out into the hall in her haste to escape the animal in her bedroom. Vegeta growled behind her, more determined than ever to claim her as his own. Let her keep resisting, soon enough she would be begging for him.

When she turned to run downstairs and caught sight of Vegeta coming after her, she was glad that she made it a daily habit of jogging. She might never be able to outlast him, but at least she had some endurance to keep running for a while. She dashed down the stairs, not bothering to look back and see if he was catching up. She already knew he was. She rounded the staircase when she reached the bottom and sprinted down the hall toward her laboratory.

She quickly entered the code to access her lab and slipped inside and slammed the door shut just as Vegeta reached it. She leaned back against the door, the cold metal cooling her hot skin. She breathed a small sigh of relief until she heard something slam against the door behind her. No doubt a saiyan fist. She jumped away from the door and ran down the stairs to find a decent hiding place. That door wouldn't keep him out.

Bulma ducked behind a work table right as Vegeta kicked the door off its hinges. She cursed silently. She would have to fix it _again_. Not that that was the biggest problem she had on her hands at the moment. She strained her ears to listen for any sounds, but the lab was totally silent aside from her hushed breathing.

"There you are."

She shrieked when Vegeta appeared out of nowhere in front of her and wrapped his arms around her body. She struggled against his hold, but there was no way for her to break free from him. "Let go of me!"

Vegeta grinned and released her, waiting to see what she would do. She pushed herself away from him, backing herself up against the work station. Her chest heaved with her panting as she stared at him. She hadn't expected him to actually let go. Now that he had, she almost wished he hadn't. She liked the way his arms felt around her.

"Are you done running yet, Woman?" he purred as he leaned in closer to her.

Her eyes shifted from his obsidian eyes to his lips. He was so close she could feel his breath. She felt a shiver run down her spine. Done running? From him? He was terrifying her. He was acting more like a wild beast than a person. A predator. It thrilled her. She swallowed, unable to form words.

"Do you submit to me as my mate?" he asked.

Bulma bit her bottom lip and searched for a way out one last time, but there was none. Her eyes went back to his and she nodded. "I will, if you will protect and honor me as your mate," she answered. She wasn't sure where those words came from, but they sounded right.

"I will do everything in my power to defend you for the duration of our lives," he promised, "and you will stand by my side with fullest dignity." Their vows made, Vegeta stroked his thumb over her lips before kissing her forcefully. All that was left was the consummation of their promises. Vegeta picked Bulma up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom to finish their mating.

_A/N: That's all, folks! Exactly three months after it began..._

_Story stats at time of posting:  
Chapters: 63  
Words: 419,540  
Reviews: 1,003  
Hits: 86,997  
Favorites: 121_

_Thanks to **everyone**__ who reviewed, favorited, alerted, or simply enjoyed reading this story. It means the world to me that my writing can bring others entertainment. See you all for the sequel? Until then, enjoy my other stories as I post them!_

_Song: "…To Be Loved" by Papa Roach_


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